((I am legitimately DYING omg))
((How the FUCK am I 19 followers from 500????
HOW?))
(Aye
follow this guy.)
((SIGNAL BOOST.))
anyone who says “just internet friends” is a fucking douche okay
my internet friends have wiped my tears dozens more times than my “real life friends”Any friendship, on line or not, is still a bond, no? Whether you be a mile away, or a thousand miles away—it’s still a friendship. Something brings us all together; a string of fate, if you will? We’re friends. I love mine. No matter where they are on this planet. And I don’t see the difference than living ten minutes away or eighteen hours away. Friendship is friendship.
A number of reputable psychologists and sociologists seem to agree with the populace that claims internet friendships are just as strong and healthy as the face-to-face ones. Here are just a few quotes obtained from a scholastic library of essays written by said psychologists and sociologists.
“Many friendships have been formed online. A national survey of adolescent Internet users in the United States reported that more than half of the sample conversed with people whom they did not know face-to-face through various online communication channels such as chat rooms and email. Twenty-five percent of the adolescents developed casual online friendships, and 14% of them had developed close online friendships.”
“We propose that those who feel that they can better express their true selves
on the Internet than they can in their non-Internet areas of life will be more likely
to form close relationships with those they meet on-line.”“…not only do UK housewives spend more of their downtime online than anyone else in the whole wide world, but also that – shock, horror – people are increasingly open to turning “online” friends into people they’d deign to call real life friends.”
“However, it may be hard to find others who share one’s interests in one’s local area, and when people get to know one another in the traditional manner, it generally takes time to establish whether they have commonalities and to what extent. But when someone joins a newsgroup devoted to, for example, aging ferrets, he or she already knows that there is a shared base of interest with the others there.”
“Some researchers argue that people can develop close online relationships because the Internet enables individuals to pass through obstacles that may prevent potentially rewarding relationships from developing through face-to-face interaction.”
“Depending on the root of the friendship, on where the conversation started, the benefit is clear – you cut out the tedium of small talk. What could be better? There’s no trying to slowly work out whether you think similarly or have the same kinds of life experience, or whether you really do have enough in common to sustain the friendship – all that is done by the time you meet because you’ve read their comments or their emails or their blog. “
So, tl;dr?
Anyone who would dare talk down on close, internet relationships is ignorant.
cries
same with con friends and stuff.
==> Wave your hand back and smile vapidly at him.
hello!
WHATS GOING ON WITH YOU…?
>Its clear that he looks scared as fuck right now.
==> Tilt your head a little.
is everything alright?
you look concerned.
razielkaius started following you
>You wave nervously at the new follower.
H-HEY.
==> Wave your hand back and smile vapidly at him.
hello!
==> Tezca: Bleed
Well, fuck.
At the moment, any greenblood that would be crossing your path (once you regained your strength from blood loss) was going to be motherfucking culled on sight.
No questions asked.
You hiss, dragging yourself to the throne (you would get up, but your ankles and achilles tendons were conveniently sliced through), stopping once or twice to cough up blood.
“m-motherfucking pussy cat.”
You manage to growl that out as you pushed yourself up on the throne, then managed to twist yourself around so you were sitting properly on it. There, see? Nothing wrong at all.
Except for the bleeding bite in your neck, the punctures in your chest, the slashes on your face, and your useless feet.
Other than that, you were fucking peachy.
Though right now a nap sounded REALLY good right now.
You wandered into the hive you’d found while walking aimlessly. The door had been left open, tilting your head curiously. You’d never really thought much of wandering into others’ hives, especially when left open like this. When you found a trail of purple on the floor, you’d followed it carefully and tilted your head when you saw the adult sitting there.
“May I ask what happened to you, miss..?”
You’re hissing as breathing is getting just a bit more painful and a little harder to take a deep breath. Fuck the fact that your lungs were filling with blood, you pitch over the arm of your throne and cough up some more blood, trying to clear out the airways.
Someone spoke up and your head jolted up, a bad choice on your part as you hiss-gurgled when your neck wound throbbed painfully.
“a motherfucking meowbeast all up and tried to fight me.” You blink, seeing that this was an unfamiliar face, completely unfamiliar.
“WAIT, WHO THE MOTHERFUCK ARE YOU AND HOW DID YOU GET IN MY HIVE?”
You tilted your head and looked at her, a sort of kidlike concern crossing your face as you moved closer to her. Slowly, of course.
“Is this one of those ‘you should see the other guy’ things? Because if so, I would bet they would be dead by now. As for who I am, my name is Raziel and you left your front door open…I just followed the trail of indigo.” You pointed over your shoulder as though this proved your point. “I think…I might be able to help you, if you would let me. I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to do, but it would at least make you stable enough to where you would have a much higher chance of surviving.”
You had a look about you that suggested that you weren’t ‘all there’ upstairs, so you didn’t really think there would be too much cooperation.
==> Tezca: Bleed
Well, fuck.
At the moment, any greenblood that would be crossing your path (once you regained your strength from blood loss) was going to be motherfucking culled on sight.
No questions asked.
You hiss, dragging yourself to the throne (you would get up, but your ankles and achilles tendons were conveniently sliced through), stopping once or twice to cough up blood.
“m-motherfucking pussy cat.”
You manage to growl that out as you pushed yourself up on the throne, then managed to twist yourself around so you were sitting properly on it. There, see? Nothing wrong at all.
Except for the bleeding bite in your neck, the punctures in your chest, the slashes on your face, and your useless feet.
Other than that, you were fucking peachy.
Though right now a nap sounded REALLY good right now.
You wandered into the hive you’d found while walking aimlessly. The door had been left open, tilting your head curiously. You’d never really thought much of wandering into others’ hives, especially when left open like this. When you found a trail of purple on the floor, you’d followed it carefully and tilted your head when you saw the adult sitting there.
“May I ask what happened to you, miss..?”
