Not that anyone expect you to, but should you for some reason feel you have something, anything at all, to say to the writer of this text, then he could be reached by this e-mail: undergroundman.21c@hotmail.com . But of course you have nothing to say, do you? Ergo, I will never hear from you. And should my identity be revealed I expect to hear even less from you. That is if it’s possible for this nonexistent effort of yours to be even lesser.
Come to think of it, this less than nothing could only mean, that this phenomenon of nothingness, this non-existent but very potential word treasure that could be swaying between us, now slowly is on the verge of transforming itself into a negative. The negative arises only after something has been subtracted. Still as my text keeps rambling on, my word vocabulary can’t be anything but intact. The loss must be yours. Your act of nothing is turning itself against you. But only I am to be blamed for this. It is because of me and indeed caused by me that you are starting to loose your words.
You ought to demand an excuse. Of course an excuse for this illicit stealing of your words, but more importantly for this impudence taking up your precious time. No, let me correct myself: for stealing your precious time! This writer can be nothing more than a simple thief, a morally degenerated lowlife criminal. Only, as the words are slowly fading away for every line that is being written, you are more and more unable to demand that excuse, are you not? I can find no other plausible explanation to why I'll never hear from you. It's not that you don't have anything to say, there simply isn't a way for you to say it. The balance is broken and the nothingness is consuming you. Therefore it also seems it is up to me to give the apology that I so rightfully owe you. It seems to be my duty and obligation as a writer.
But really, this is quite much to ask from a morally degenerated lowlife criminal, wouldn't you agree? Having had no contact with you what so ever, I'm also to know your precise thoughts and wishes even before they entered your own mind. But I won't argue, I will give you what you crave for, mostly to ease my own conscience (and perhaps yours as well). So to conclude this elusive text I'll give you my sincere apology. I really am truly sorry for all the inconvenience I have caused you. Please forgive me, I beg of you!
Later on I will have no other choice than to create some sort of a forum for this page so that people who have suffered severe mental illness and intellectual regression will get the chance to warn the rest of the world population the wicked nature of this page and the wicked nature of the writer, preventing this bad virus from ever spreading its plague.
Still, no matter the reason behind it, the forum itself would be highly meaningless for the reasons described in earlier paragraphs. It is my writings that are preventing you from participating in this interaction. But should I be mistaken let it be known that... No! Again, let me correct myself. It's most unlikely for me to be wrong about our interaction, but that doesn't necessarily make it valid for the different kind of interactions you might have to others when I'm not present. So if you for some reason feel you have something, anything at all, to say, and, not that anyone expect you to, still are able to, then let the world hear your complaint...
