Or the account of my decline into barbarism (and all of the lovely, mad people who helped me do it).

Sunday, March 7, 2010


Okay, lately I've become obsessed with the web's newest voyeuristic craze: ChatRoulette. It's simple. The site connects you via webcam to strangers across the world. If at anytime you become bored or (more commonly) disgusted with your partner, you "NEXT" them, and they're gone forever. While Chatrt has become a forum for perverts and their playful, raw parts, I have met a few interesting people.

A Tunisian guy named Wjadi wanted to marry me.
I talked to a film student in Dallas for two hours before I was disconnected and lost him forever.
I've practiced French with a few Frenchies.
A military man from Nova Scotia talked to me at 6 AM when I couldn't sleep. He showed me his flannel underwear, told me how incredible they were.
Last night I stayed up until 5 AM talking to a college freshman from Paris. We're now friends on Skype, and he opened up about his relationship, how the last time he saw his girl was a year and a half ago. He can't even talk to her on the phone, but he's waiting until she turns eighteen (in two years) so they can be together. Now that's love.

There's something fascinating about talking to a stranger. You can be totally honest, because, hey, they don't know you. You may never see them again. And if things get too unbearable and you find yourself too vulnerable, you can always say, "Next." I wish this applied to reality. When you become too close to someone, when you know you're on the brink of heartbreak, I wish you could say, "next" and that person would be gone forever without the risk of pain, of instability, of being so connected to someone that you forget about yourself and adhere to them completely.

1 comment:

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