Dear Jess, do you remember when?

 Once upon a time in the depths of the internet, my friend Jess and I discovered an unexpected passion for poetic mischief. Both poets in our own right, we decided to join forces and unleash our creativity anonymously online. We tag-teamed our verses, creating a unique blend of words that resonated with our growing audience. It was a joyous endeavor, and our accounts began to amass followers at an astonishing rate.

However, as our popularity soared, a darker inclination emerged. Beneath the veneer of poetic expression, a mischievous desire to toy with the emotions of unsuspecting followers took root. We realized we had a knack for trolling, particularly when it came to the vulnerable hearts of those who were enamored by our words. Our poetic prowess turned into a means of online seduction, and we reveled in the chaos we created.

Our mischievous escapades escalated, becoming an obsession that consumed our waking hours. Nights turned into blurred stretches of time as we fueled our antics with substances that blurred the lines between reality and the virtual world we inhabited. Cocaine-fueled creativity became our muse as we created hundreds of accounts, weaving intricate webs of romance to lure in unsuspecting admirers.

Caught in the thrill of our online charades, we neglected the most basic needs of our physical selves. We forgot to eat, sleep became a distant memory, and our appearances deteriorated into disheveled reflections of our all-consuming preoccupation. The world outside our poetic playground ceased to exist as we spiraled deeper into the intoxicating realm of our virtual conquests.

Despite the toll it took on our well-being, the thrill of our poetic mischief held us captive. The power we felt in making the lovestruck fall for our illusions became an addictive force, blinding us to the consequences of our actions. Little did we realize that our journey into the labyrinth of online deception would force us to confront the blurred lines between creativity and cruelty, leaving us to question the true cost of our poetic dalliances.

This was the beginning of my new hobby. Jess helped me get into it, get into her... Sarah. Jess was always instigating in the beginning. Then Jess got pregnant and when the baby came she pretty much abandoned me and the world we made. I had to pilot it on my own. Those were the good old days Jess. Miss you babe.