I just had two people tell me to send a letter to Mr. Shelley.
To stop being a total wimp and just message him already.
I'll get right on that, pencil it in between having my brain eaten by zombies and .... well you can't do much after having your brains eaten by zombies.
What good would that do? He's read the blog; I'm sure. He knows the score. I've embarrassed myself enough as it is.
And besides, what the hell would I say? "You're so frealing hot"
He's looked in a mirror he knows it already, and it's written all over this damned blog already.
I'm at the point where it's just a case of "I want to cut off her head and drive a stake through her heart."
Fear. It's a powerful thing. Fear of being laughed at, fear of being feared.
Being viewed as creepy on this blog is one thing, it's my blog. I just open my mouth and let the thoughts hit the page in a splatter punk of colour.
Messaging him would be a totally different level of creep factor.
Besides, what would I do if he actually replied back?