My writeups veer toward the factual when I'm in serious emotional turmoil.
It's true. Seriously.
When I've been blown off, insulted or left in the lurch by...whatever or whomever (generally whomever, these days) I write some of the most complete, factually correct and intelligent nodes I ever have. Except this one. There's a germ of truth here, but it's buried somewhere so deep even I can't find it anymore.
There's something about the comfort of this place. I can say, "Hey. I know I didn't get a call from (dot dot dot) when I was supposed to. I know I have no idea as to what's going through her head, whether she's seriously busy or if she's really at that orgy she was talking about, whether she's ignoring me or playing some game. Ha ha. Actually, I have no idea as to where I stand with her right now. At all. Not one bit."
"But you know what I DO know? I know that if I post something totally serious and completely factual over on e2, I'll probably be rewarded with up-votes and a kind message or two. Screw her. At least everything's dependable in a completely ambiguous, random and totally comprehensible sort of way."
THIS system, this collective we've forged out of nothing, I understand the workings of. Women, I don't think I'll ever understand.