human contact. yuck. kinda.

I prefer to keep my favorite things very private. I hate to think that another could be given the opportunity to make judgment calls on the genre that I may or may not exemplify.
What a queer (traditional definition) thing it is to live in a world so advanced that one may, with sober consideration, slice the layers of interaction down to whatever layer one may like.
"I wish for only a single drachma worth of stimulus from the outside world." Sure.
Kazaam! If that's all you need then you can write commentary on some other shit head's website or some other inconsequential nothing or other.
Not to deter anyone who may read this: I need feedback.
Fuck. I always say the wrong thing...
"'I'm willing to tell you, I'm waiting to tell you, I'm wanting to tell you.' That's the Welsh strain in 'im."-- Henry Higgins.
As far as I know, I possess no Welsh in my die-ribald- nuclear-acidity, but I love the goddam shite outta the Welsh types that I've known. I'm keen on those susceptible to flights of fancy...
Reverse racism? I shudder to think of the complexities that wait for me should I ever begin to consider the implications of my own inner monologue... *shudder*