I like that I didn't put you, that is, love in the days of the Internet
After reading our guide to likes, Teresa wrote us a letter to tell her romantic, and somewhat melancholy, social story, including likes not put, photos that scroll on the Facebook home, alarms that ring and notifications. that give hope Your story - or not story - was born with a "like"?
The alarm clock has already been postponed three times and you know that nothing and no one will ever get you up from that "envelope of sheets and pillow. At the umpteenth trill you decide to let that damned alarm clock breathe its last, perhaps throwing it against the wall or defenestrating it, but you know well that the gesture is only contained in your most beautiful dream dream. Quick glance at the phone, a couple of notifications: events in your vicinity, "Calabrian lace artichoke festival" you who live in Milan, chains of Sant "Antonio, I like your aunt in post 2009 and not even the shadow of a hint of her. Yes, I like that guy you hope to see every day, with whom you see yourself married, with the house by the sea , 7 pugs and 3 Labradors.
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Do you think that after all that I like you deserve it. The last profile photo posted with the Lo-Fi filter wasn't that bad! After the ritual notification and added the reminder to remind your aunt not to spend her life on your profile, you decide to do as she your life (because you will spend the other half in the house by the sea taking care of the rose garden) on his profile.
Heck, he posted a new photo! He gives him that new white t-shirt a lot, I almost stepped up to the other 76 girls who put some hearts, some like. Maybe he notices me. Maybe she realizes I might be interested. But maybe I look like a loser, desperate, unfortunate, out of place and even unpleasant. Better to stay in the shadows, in the end in love wins those who run away, at least so someone said. think of that I like missed, that "dull scream that could give him a hint about your presence in the" northern hemisphere, that judgment that you would so much like to let him know and that you would like him to be reciprocated.
It's late, man, again. Last look at the home. A notification. His name in the box with a "like" that jumps from the phone! You knew that that new profile photo would pay off, that the plastic pose you tried for hours before leaving the house would give you satisfaction. Then open the notification: the like was for a video about dogs tripping over carpets and falling down stairs.
He doesn't imagine those could be yours.
