Hi. Name’s Voronika.
Bet you didn’t expect a personal letter from me. Of course you didn’t. You thought you’ll submit an e-mail and receive ads from a company producing weight loss socks or dog wool coats. Or a startup, or something. Whatever were you thinking?
Don’t worry, I won’t be bothering you. Can’t write too often from where I’m at now. No, I’m not talking about a metaphorical afterlife — I’m simply stuck in the middle of nowhere, and the closest town that has a telegraph office is three days away from me. I’ve coded the site on my laptop, and then I took a flash drive with me to the only village nearby that has a cyber cafe and internet access. I’m not even sure the site is really on. I think local PCs work on coal.
So if you’re reading this that means I do still have some skills.
One of my skills is dying. That’s what I’m doing right now. Actually, same goes for you, but I’m way ahead; if you want to catch up with me, you’d better hurry since I know I’ll die this September.
Please don’t ooh me. Just listen.
I’m privy to a secret — no, it’s not a secret I have to tell the world before I die or else it dies with me. The opposite, really: there are quite a few who share it with me. But you don’t. They are special, you see, and you aren’t. You know that, right? And the secret — the secret shared by way too many — will keep living after I die. It’ll grow. Develop. Root itself in the world deeper and deeper.
Well, what if I don’t like that? What if I want to play rebel? My rebellion looks like a website with scantily clad girls and a bunch of pretentious slogans, yeah.
But I can’t offer you anything better, so here we are. At least they say I’m a decent artist. Enjoy my portfolio.
And don’t worry. I’ll tell you the secret. Just you wait.
Voronika,
http://feverishfeeling.comP. S. Why not a blog, you ask? Because everyone knows that only fools and lunatics start blogs that aim to uncover deep dark secrets. Also because it’s easier to keep away a database of e-mail addresses than a domain.