Being an extremely niche internet microcelebrity
I am now an extremely niche internet microcelebrity. It is like having, in a small number of rooms, something strange on my face. I am spoken to stiltedly, and looked at with interest—most of it friendly, but not all of it.
This surprises some parts of me and not others. When I was little, I assumed, to some degree, that I would be famous—for the glory of my visage, and my never-ending wit—and that I would date many other celebrities. But I also assumed that I would die alone in a cave, ugly and coated in residues, surrounded by video game cartridges and boxes of grocery store apple pie. And, to some extent, I continued to view the future in this binocular fashion, imagining myself in horrid isolation or bathed in adulation, depending on what mood I was in.
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