I write when I don’t want to go to bed.

Im not sure what i expect to see when I check my email. I look everyday at this inbox full of crap and see that none of this mail is actually for me.

Its all a hook, a dreary tale of friendless ebay receipts and sale ads and offers for vacations that I know I’ll never take.

I am faithful though. I open the mailbox and scroll through the empty promises of nothing new.

Occasionally there is something that piques my interest and I dive headfirst into the rabbit hole. Down I delve into the fantastic cave of imaginary betterness.

I have to wonder though, about the senders countless hours spent spinning an eweb just interesting enough to earn a click.

Is the writer lonely like I am? Does he, or she, hit send hoping for a humane reply?

Maybe they don’t want to go to bed either.



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