Parasocial illusions/pedestal of our hobbys

From my Poem.

Parasocial pedestals are what we imagine relations and responses/reactions of others when the mindlessness of direct response machinery can give no other answer.

Little tickers of a little meter, going up to ten and a small amount of maths, magical maths of wisdom, apparently. Friend, friendlies of followers that follow, then not for no reasons deduced, non-understandable. With the art that may be pursued, even if it's unknowingly at a solipsistic level.

Even if it's solipsistic, it's a hobby. That may be good enough.

The world may be not ready for the resonance of professionalism, obscurity can be a friend.

The payment that can not be worth it.

Only with this path of sustainability with the hobby established first.

You're on the pedestal

Hey Little sprout.

Whatever small things that come this way, it's a show. A show of corduroy and smiles, the grin, the cushions. Customer services smile all around of a cult that's the charm of this machine that we are a part of, the way it feels. It's like there's nothing between us.

Business as usual, industry as usual, mechanizations as usual of the physical laws we operate and consume in circles, ain't that grand? You can't deny it from the tensing of your stomach for that advertising, commercial friendly look.

Part of the biz of what makes they look for others a craft; a sport. Pride in craft, the intrinsic upstaging of others of the body, built. The long term admiration.

Feel this copywriting disappear into the waves?

Wanna rp?

Watermarked. Oop.

Kyro's looks up his smartphone, yep it's those messages, from his master. It's an immature "wanna rp" the guy wants to play with him. They ask for a one to one favour.

Then there was that pic that made him hide the phone. He is the high Furry meant to keep his secrets. 

"He's into me." He thought, as he scrolled through his messages, he's not that used to this kind of attention as his previous job. All with short little messages from somebody who you'd think won't give a slither of attention due to his duties, but for Kyro. Is it because of his brawn, or might that explain the traction? This unnatural traction.

An effect that's dulled and part of the job.

Self control Schrodinger's cat

The selling of control of one's destiny and one that's not is going to be repackaged back to us, right?

Control to make a Hit

Control to make a Mass appeal

Control to make a Viral

Control to make a Moment

Control where meaning ceases to exist, The method of racing to that point.

So be it to determine the mindset of shark and villain to know how these are acted, with self-help and the things that dart around not being the case. The grifter, the souless profit Mongerer, all seen through the perspective of measurement. With the swirling vortex and one out.

At a certain point, all this control talk within a meta becomes redundant, only the marathon of doing the work can be accomplished.

Skai Doodle, thoughts day.

Doodle of Skai's birthday.

Leaving it here, Since these self-important days are merely that, something that feels important, yet it's now. The prospective customer wants a voice to be seen and resonated amongst the lands, that's the network of social interaction, of being seen such a special bean.

So it shall be repeated today, and tomorrow, even if it's the spur. The parasocial illusions will keep persisting when I know what only really matters is the response going back to my own tenure with this social media's tenure mattering the most.

These direct-action barometers exist, yet they only beep indiscriminately with mindlessness.

Huzzah.