Dear Twitter Crush,
I've never seen a picture of you, I've never personally talked to you or been in your vicinity, all I know about your life is that you're at college, you're an egoist and you're white and male.
A pretty poor list, isn't it? What kind of grounds is that for a crush, especially if I've never seen you?
But it's what you write that I love. In 140 characters every day you reveal to me a mind as interesting and funny as I've ever known. Well, having said that, there are plenty of people on Twitter who are interesting and funny, yet you're my favourite, because you're the perfect mix. You're aggressive, crude, lewdly amusing, introspective, loud, present and passionate about the stuff you love, just like I am.
Ah! My comrade of the Internet Revolution! We followed each other from your confident forwardness and my follow-back policy, bonding over our love of Max Stirner, weed and illegalism! A strange pair who have only talked a couple of times, coexisting on each other's timelines for the rest of it; we're as weird as each other.
Do I repulse you? Do I interest you? Or are you indifferent? Have you ever laughed at anything that I've written, or do you think I'm weird and sad? I'm always afraid to @ you, in case you start thinking of me as 'that creep who always replies to my tweets', because heck knows I've had those types, and I know how annoying they are.
Pennsylvania isn't that far away from where I live, and I'm sure you'd love to get to know the country that colonised your country firsthand. There's a lot to do in London for an activist. You could see some direct action in practice. You could throw eggs at British politicians (with me of course). We could club together and be Stirner's dream, a union of egoists...
Well, for the moment this fantasy does not exist outside the confines of my head, which seems a shame, at least to me. Perhaps we should take it to the DMs sometime?