*muffled SCREAMING*

Luckily what she wants is not power, not fame, not money or romance or sex. What she wants is to tweet about the long-canceled, long-forgotten, straight-to-VHS merch-shilling cartoon she adored as a child in the 90s. 

She links her cats instagram, where she uploads all her cutest photos of her cats, along with merch hauls, pet care tips, advice for new cats owners, and brand recommendations.

Shelter adoptions surge in the wake, millions of cats brought home to houses preemptively stocked with all the necessary supplies, bedding, and accommodations.

She posts about her herb garden, and interest in gardening surges to an all time high. People who haven’t had any passionate hobbies in decades are suddenly growing little basil sprigs, and remembering like a long-forgotten friend the joy of crafting with their hands.

But by the nature of what she is, people cannot hate her.

Dedicated troll blogs feel a pang of guilt even tagging her handle, and delete drafts with a deep sense of shame. It makes them stop and wonder what joy they used to get out of cutting people down online. Most delete their accounts. Most think about buying a few succulents instead.

She sends a tweet “Please don’t use the internet to bully others ~(=^･ω･^)”

There is no fanfare. No announcement. No build-up. She simply misses the peace of living her own quiet life with her cats and her herb garden and her tea set and her many, many, many books.

The internet mourns for her. They speculate on where she went, who she is, and what could have caused this. Many of them would likely be able to find her real identity and track her down, but they don’t want to do that to her. They don’t want to do anything she wouldn’t want them to do. It’s in the nature of what she is.

She’s left them suddenly, the whole world, infected with a strange new compassion for the obscure, for the peaceful, for each other. The ripples don’t stop. Things sway in larger scale to the more benevolent, to the more environmental, to the more educational, as 7 billion people are inoculated with the desire to make proud the woman who simply loved plants and books and animals and compassion and obscure 90′s media.

Every now and then, she appears again. Always under a different account, a brand new handle, a nameless anonymous tag. She reappears to promote another book, or to go on long meandering rambles about her favorite Pokemon, or to review an old Warrior Cats fanfiction she loved from years ago, or to just post a few photos of her sprouting herbs.

Each time, people find it. Like moths to a flame, people gravitate to her and the views, notes, clicks explode. The book sells out. The Pokemon reaches #1 trending. The fanfiction author (now a married mother of three) opens her old email to the inexplicable sight of several-thousand new reviews. The herb photos simply make people happy.

And she’ll move on. Delete, remake, however often or much as keeps her happy. And people speculate every time that something of this nature goes viral that it’s her again, that it must be, but they can only ever guess.

Where do they come from. What do

they hope to achieve.

you all say: I love you I

love you I love you.