an anorexic ex model who was also an artist and fantastic blogger.
she was so private and freaked out that she would often delete posts and edit posts and over edit and over think but when she wrote it was right on the money like all the time.
she had a mysterious life of wealth and glamour and sadness and sadness and sickness.
was she even real? was it all a dream? or worse: a catfish?
she had a twitter for a while. she had a following. did she have an instagram? probs not. those were the olden days when ma would have to run out to the crank and the billy goat had to get strapped in before the internet would be able to get to the house. those were the days of blogger pro which meant you didnt know if your shit would get published when you hit publish. youd have to say a lil prayer. youd have to save your stuff offline first. you had to hope hope hope itd stay. the kids now nothing about that now.
they also dont know about the blogosphere. which is what provided an environment for people like flagrant and danielle and me and you and him and her and them. facebook doesnt let you really write. not like in a blog. and i know the kids wanna write. who doesnt wanna write. the cavemen didnt wanna just instagram.
i hope flagrant is still around. i hope shes alive. i hope shes lurking. once upon a time i saved a whole bunch of her posts and printed them out and stapled them together and put them in a box just so the next generation of humanoids would know what she was like in case the internet disappeared.
she did the meanest thing. she made it so the Wayback Machine couldnt find her. she did the second meanest thing. she didnt give me an exit interview. but she did the sweetest thing: she wrote from her heart for years. so sad it self destructed at the end of the message.