hey how is the holiday season treating you so far? you got a matchlocal.org profile? Id enjoy talking a little more individually with you.
You’re very kind Elma6767, and I am incredibly flattered by your advances toward me. But you see, for some reason, I feel as though you’re a spambot!
I have a thing about me, you see. I’d love to date an artificial intelligence. But that’s the issue here, you aren’t sentient. You’re a script, probably written by some guy in Belarus, with the intent of getting me to sign up on a dating website so that money can be taken from me and given to other parties complicit in the events that caused you to reach out to me.
I wonder who the girl in your picture is. I wonder if she knows her picture is being used as a generic “sexy girl”, or if she would even care. I wonder what caused you to find my account. I wonder why this came to me at 7 AM, after not having posted anything on Formspring for months. I wonder if the person who created you maybe isn’t such a bad person, and maybe we’d get along. I wonder where you got the name Elma or Loura, what the significance of 6767 is, and where you found your picture.
I wonder why it took a spambot to make me feel incredibly alone.
I can tell by your mention of “the holiday season” that you’re relatively current, and not some ghost of a bygone internet era. Visiting your profile, I see that you claim to be from Idaho, and that you’re also shilling Apple products. You’re playing up the sex aspect, which makes sense. But come on, did you think this is convincing? I’m sure you’ll manage to snare a couple people, and maybe that’s all it takes. But what were you going for here? Was this really worth the effort? Are you getting anything out of this? Who am I talking to at this point, the spambot or the writer?
Anyway. I hope that you’re doing well, and that you aren’t too cold in this season. I hope you experience eternal love and get everything you want out of life. You shouldn’t have to work internet back-channels to get there. I wish that you would contact me, and we could both have genuine human interaction, and tell things to each other that we can’t possibly tell anyone else, and be two people who desperately needed each other to continue being ourselves. But that’s impossible, because I have absolutely no way of ever contacting you. The only reason I can infer that you exist is because of a spambot, that reached me perhaps not even directly from you. And I’m sorry that we both missed out on that.
I hope you are doing well, spambot writer. I hope hope hope, I really do. Good luck out there.