tried to eat the safe banana (thefourthvine) wrote,
tried to eat the safe banana

Super-Wanky Special Poll: Nobody Loves Me, Everybody Hates Me. I Think I'll Go Eat Trolls.

Except, see, I really don't want this to get wanky. I'm just not sure there's any way to discuss this without wank, although I'm going to try. Try really, really hard.

And please keep in mind, as you read this and select various boxes of clickiness, that I am not asking why no one loves me. Because, actually, I feel very loved. (Um, yeah, the title of the post and the poll would seem to argue otherwise, but my feeling is: if I'm going to post on a topic of potential wankiness, I might as well make fun of myself. That way, at least it will be amusing. To me, I mean.) LJ has been good to me.

It's just that anniversaries are much on my mind lately. (Best Beloved and I will be celebrating our, um, somethingth year together tomorrow. We still haven't figured out just what number year it is, though.) And my LJ anniversary is coming up, so I've been reflecting on it, in my usual mature, considered manner. ("Hmmm. Two years? Really?" [pause for thought] "Oooo! Porn!") And I've noticed that, over time, my experience of LJ has changed. For example, I'm much less likely to make friends (actual friends, not friends-list friends) now, and when I do, it's as a result of me seeking other people out.

Also, I've been getting strange responses to the comments I leave in other people's LJs lately. Used to be, people just responded. Or not. Whichever. Now - well, I sometimes get responses that indicate major astonishment that I commented on a friend's post at all.

This is weird. Isn't it? It's new to me, anyway, and therefore weird to me.

Admittedly, I'm not the biggest commenter; I don't comment on 99.5% of the posts I read, because I'm just not very social. (People who know me in real life are invited to take 10-15 minutes to laugh helplessly on the floor at that understatement.) But that's always been true, the not commenting and the not socializing. So I'm kind of wondering if the subtext of these new, weird responses is, "Wow. You actually came down from your high horse long enough to leave a comment in my LJ! A very long and pointless comment, let me add, which I'm kind of astonished you thought I'd be interested in." (Because when I do comment, I do it to excess. You should all be very glad I don't comment any more often, actually.) In other words, I'm wondering if my bad LJ habits (lack of comments, spotty replying, a dearth of posts) have made me something of, um, a Notorious B.I.T.C.H. (I'm spelling it! For purposes of delicacy! See? No wankiness here!)

Which, hey, if that's the case, I'm fine with it, actually. (Yet more evidence for bitch-hood, I realize.) But, okay. You know how we are all destined for hell because of all the fun we're having? I suspect I will not be frolicking on level 2 with the rest of you lusty folks, but rather wherever it is they store the excessively curious. (I'll be asking "Why?" in hell, in other words. This is a very suitable fate for me.) I'm okay with my LJ experience changing; I'm still having just as much fun here - more fun than is legal in most states, in fact. But I want to know why it's changed.

So I'm asking you.

But, seriously, this is not a request for you to tell me you love me. (Love doesn't need a season! Or a reason! Or a wankfest!) Instead, I invite you to speculate on why other people don't love me. Or, at any rate, why they seem unwilling to talk to me, and why they sometimes act shocked when I talk to them.

Plus, it's an occasion to post a poll. And is there ever a really bad reason to do that?

Poll #671603 Baby, baby, where did the love go?

Click here so I know that - *sob* - someone is actually taking my poll.

There, there. We all love you. Get some therapy or something, would you? Or maybe a hug. I find a hug helps.

So. Tell me about me, darling. Why does no one want to be my best friend?

You don't post often enough. How can we love you if we can't remember you?
You don't respond to your comments consistently enough. If you don't say talk back to people, they, um, assume you don't want to talk. Is this a surprise to you, sugar?
You aren't open enough. No one wants to overshare with the undersharer, kiddo.
You don't comment in other people's journals enough. If you don't reach out, how can you touch someone?
You already have friends. It's easier to invite the lone kid to play. Plus, I mean, look at your friends. They're so cool! Or dorky! Or something!
You aren't a newbie any more, and we're all busy staring at the new kids.
You're boring. You always have the same old Lego set, when other kids are building trains.
You really are just that much of a mean snob.
You know, with the rants and so on, you don't exactly come off as the friendliest kid on the block.
Something else, which I will describe in loving detail in the comments.

So, huh. That's really all the talking about me that I had stored up. Instead, tell me about you. Has your experience changed on LJ over the years?

I just got here. There hasn't been time for it to change.

And - you saw this coming, right? - how has your LJ experience change since you started?

I've become less open: not so much with the overshare, the personal details, the unlocked posts.
I've become more open. The most humiliating incident of my childhood will make a great post. And where else would I discuss my sexual disasters? It's what LJ is for.
I've become less internet-stupid. Fewer huge pictures not behind cuts! Less derogatory personal ranting posted for all to see!
I've become more internet-stupid. In fact, I've been featured on fandom_wank three times just this week. R0X0R!
I've become nicer. People routinely go into diabetic comas from one of my comments: that's how sweet I am.
I've become meaner. RL is for nice; hating is for the internet. I mean, if you're not hating, why are you even online?
I've become less social, in the sense that I don't meet so many new people, add so many new journals, or make so many new friends. I am an internet of one.
I've become more social. I make communities! I make connections! I make many many friends! I'm like this gorgeous cross between a butterfly and a herd of buffalo!
I've become less boring. No one wants to see my to-do list ("Buy milk, pistachios, amaretto. Write porn. Learn to stand on head."), so I make that private, these days. And my choice of shoes this morning? I made that without posting a photo poll!
I've become more boring. If people want to help me pick my shoes out, who am I to deny the Will of the Internet?
I'm happier here. More sure of myself, more skillful, even prettier. Soon I will take off my glasses and let down my hair and the romantic comedy will commence.
I've become less happy here. Fans, they are mean. Fandom, it is wanky and hurtful. Do you see these scars? Do you? They're from THE INTERNET! Damn you. Damn you all to hell.
I'm not here so much. See, I got this thing we call a life, and it's been taking my time away from porn and wank. I don't recognize myself when I look in the mirror, either.
I'm here much more. Let us all laugh as we recall the LJ I got "just for the friends list" and then "just for commenting." And compare it to my recent post on My 31 Most Favorite Sexual Kinks (Picspam!).
Something else, which I will describe (using footnotes and diagrams where necessary) in the comments.
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