I'm not a Tumblr famous. I love it when a red number appears above my inbox icon. If someone followed me, I smile and it makes me happy. When I lose a follower, I ask myself why. When someone hates me, only few people comfort me. When I make a text post, I seldom have notes for it. Almost all of my posts are reblogged from other users. When I hold an honesty hour, you can count with your fingers the people who ask. But despite the fact that I have not much follower count, I am proud of my blog. Why? Because the person who is reading this right now chose to follow me. :) I love you followers.
I wish I was alive during the generation of when guys threw rocks at your window, they wrote you love letters, they serenaded you, and you would get phone calls, but I'm stuck with getting poked on facebook, sharing videos on youtube, and one worded text messages.