There weren’t a lot of them on there just a few. But they were there everyday. George liked that. He felt like they were regulars at a pub or a cafe or a collective or something. He imagined them all at a bar like Friends, or another sitcom.
It was hard for him to be himself at first. He wanted to write curse words, or be sort of out there. Things that no one could judge him for. Too experimental to be judged. He could then shrug it off, as oh you don't get it, or oh you don't understand.
So he watched and waited. Maybe he commented here and there, maybe he liked something. Although, here you gave people food. Calories. To write more. He saved some posts, but nothing else.
Until he read a post that bothered him, a post that shook him to the core.
It was a post about.
The Blue Man.
It was hard for him to be himself at first. He wanted to write curse words, or be sort of out there. Things that no one could judge him for. Too experimental to be judged. He could then shrug it off, as oh you don't get it, or oh you don't understand.
So he watched and waited. Maybe he commented here and there, maybe he liked something. Although, here you gave people food. Calories. To write more. He saved some posts, but nothing else.
Until he read a post that bothered him, a post that shook him to the core.
It was a post about.
The Blue Man.
