The perspective of love, for Habbos, is a little weird! Consider a world where physical contact is not a reality and all we have left as a source of affection are the words you use and, if you’re as obsessive as Barbara, how serene your typing is. Hey, love knocked on her door AGAIN… and now that the stickies are bought with duckets, she decorates her confab room with the kind of thoughts she would never share to another human being whose Achievement Score is lower than 2000.

…and, as its pages are already crumbling knowing this, my simple heart (if we are to consider that I actually have a heart behind this 3c clothing) is breaking into bits, fragments of something that a few weeks ago was a constant, intact, and beautiful involuntary muscle. Now it carries the burden of transporting blood while, unintentionally, it plagues itself by the absence of a person who probably does not even feel the same about me; Isn’t it strange that you’re not here?!

When we spend a lot of time with one person, we tend to establish a so-daunting connection that an interesting part of all their attitudes and behaviours become increasingly predictable and understood (and probably the other person feel the same about us ??), as if the root of all their ideas and conceptions of the world begins to become an extension of yourself and, in this way, you can see the true nature of them – and you can also dig deeper and find some rotten sides in the middle of it all. It takes time and it’s vital to distinguish people who either love us or not, you know. **NOTE TO SELF – DOES THAT MAKE SENSE?**

And exceptionally in your case, time has made me want to stick with you even more, heh!  🙂

And you know, I could make a whole list containing all the reasons why I’m so intrigued and relatively ingrained in your manners and thoughts, but this diary only has 100,000 character support, so a compact version of it will be made

• I could not help noticing the way you speak (letters are, at the moment, the only source of communication viable to us) with me as a standard. Phrases composed in pauses, less than ten words a turn, as if you gave yourself the admirable effort of thinking well what to say to me, what would justify your words, so wise and selfless

• Giving continuity to the “wise” thing, when I have this privilege of accessing your confidential worlds and I actually WATCH you typing to me, my eyes catch the sweet, constant and no-rushed way you write your thoughts down, because you always put your effort in everything – you want everything, indeed – as if the single act of talking to your favorite person means being able to give all of your love and you can’t do it very well unless you do it with warm heart, serenity, and peace

• I love this weird way of composing your sentences, including how you ALWAYS divide your talks with a vicious “AND”, and I find it cool for some reason and I could not fail to notice it from the first moment I realised it and this is cute and I can not explain why

• Inspired by your heroes of the past and present and your adventures (both those you lived in the past with the ghosts of missing friends as well as those we currently live together), you have acquired a virtuoso ability to tell stories and describe important events in your life as a warrior. I could spend years observing and sharing your enthusiasm, man and that’s exactly what I usually do

• And also, as your entire life experience has involuntarily directed you into a rarely explored zone of human nature, you cling to the beautiful idea that the whole universe and all its living beings and inanimate matter are a unique and gigantic beating heart; we have the daily mission of developing our own essence and abilities, and there is nothing more important in the world than LOVE. I envy your soul

Now, if you’ll excuse me, my gal pal delta@98 is calling me to attend one of her wired events, something to do with banzais and bots that talk to us as if they were thinking humans. Ready to lose!

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