I do not think I have ever been stalked, but if I have, may I be the first to congratulate my stalker on doing such a wonderful job? My understanding is that stalkers do not want to be found out that they are stalking by the object of their stalk. I think that is how it works, I am not sure. So if you are out there Mr/Miss Stalker: well done.
Yes, never been stalked but I imagine I would quite enjoy being stalked because, come on, I am the type of person who maintains a blog (ish) about myself; it is not beyond the realms of imagination to perhaps suggest that I enjoy the attention of my fellow human brethren – that is demonstrably not farfetched. I have heard people complain about their stalkers, they think it is creepy, they find it weird and they view stalkers as an invasion on their private lives. And that is fine; there is merit behind those arguments, but what about the nice things that having a stalker advertises? Do stalkees ever stop to consider them before they apply for a restraining order?
To be honest I quite enjoy the idea of being utterly worshipped by someone who is slightly insane. I would derive a not inconsiderable amount of Machiavellian pleasure from exploiting this poor person’s hopeless devotion towards me. I would happily invite these people into my life and have them wash my cups; I have a lot of dirty, filthy cups (metaphor alert: cups = fetishes, wash = indulge). I have never stalked either but I imagine one must really be enamoured and stricken to go as far as to stalk someone. When you think about it, being stalked is the ultimate compliment – to be stalked the person must see in you some sort of otherworldly beauty, charm or presence. Can you think of a better way to express these compliments other than stalking? A card really does not have quite the same impact as a proper stalk which requires time, dedication and perseverance.
Now that I am thinking about it, please stalk me. Someone, anyone! But not the type of stalker that stalk because they want to kill the object of their stalk. That type of stalker I do not want. Dying is my least favourite thing to do (but is dying not another word for living, semantics really). Stalking in itself is not the problem; the problem is the stalkee does not want the attention of the stalker because they usually view the stalker in an unfavourable light. And that truly is tragic, the absolute disgust that people have when someone they dislike expresses love or desire for them (something that I have felt and in retrospect feel guilty about). The idea of thinking that someone so beneath me can dare to love me – what an inconsiderate prick I was. A stalker is not a repugnant, horrible excuse of a human being; they are just misguided creatures who have been spurned by the object of their desire. Is that really a crime? If the stalker succeeds in capturing the heart of their stalk, then the process would have been called courtship. Semantics.
Boring, Banal and not at all Bodacious 
Stalkers are nice people really…
I do not think I have ever been stalked, but if I have, may I be the first to congratulate my stalker on doing such a wonderful job? My understanding is that stalkers do not want to be found out that they are stalking by the object of their stalk. I think that is how it works, I am not sure. So if you are out there Mr/Miss Stalker: well done.
Yes, never been stalked but I imagine I would quite enjoy being stalked because, come on, I am the type of person who maintains a blog (ish) about myself; it is not beyond the realms of imagination to perhaps suggest that I enjoy the attention of my fellow human brethren – that is demonstrably not farfetched. I have heard people complain about their stalkers, they think it is creepy, they find it weird and they view stalkers as an invasion on their private lives. And that is fine; there is merit behind those arguments, but what about the nice things that having a stalker advertises? Do stalkees ever stop to consider them before they apply for a restraining order?
To be honest I quite enjoy the idea of being utterly worshipped by someone who is slightly insane. I would derive a not inconsiderable amount of Machiavellian pleasure from exploiting this poor person’s hopeless devotion towards me. I would happily invite these people into my life and have them wash my cups; I have a lot of dirty, filthy cups (metaphor alert: cups = fetishes, wash = indulge). I have never stalked either but I imagine one must really be enamoured and stricken to go as far as to stalk someone. When you think about it, being stalked is the ultimate compliment – to be stalked the person must see in you some sort of otherworldly beauty, charm or presence. Can you think of a better way to express these compliments other than stalking? A card really does not have quite the same impact as a proper stalk which requires time, dedication and perseverance.
Now that I am thinking about it, please stalk me. Someone, anyone! But not the type of stalker that stalk because they want to kill the object of their stalk. That type of stalker I do not want. Dying is my least favourite thing to do (but is dying not another word for living, semantics really). Stalking in itself is not the problem; the problem is the stalkee does not want the attention of the stalker because they usually view the stalker in an unfavourable light. And that truly is tragic, the absolute disgust that people have when someone they dislike expresses love or desire for them (something that I have felt and in retrospect feel guilty about). The idea of thinking that someone so beneath me can dare to love me – what an inconsiderate prick I was. A stalker is not a repugnant, horrible excuse of a human being; they are just misguided creatures who have been spurned by the object of their desire. Is that really a crime? If the stalker succeeds in capturing the heart of their stalk, then the process would have been called courtship. Semantics.
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