This is a series pinpointing various aspects of tumblr and the “tumblr writing community” as many of us like to call ourselves. This series showcases my opinions, and my opinions only, as a girl who likes to write things and post them on tumblr. They’re blunt, they entail the usage of a lot of curse words, and they’re always biased. My opinions tend to be that way. My holding these opinions doesn’t mean I dislike you if you find yourself doing the things I rage against — it just means I sigh, maybe even groan, and scroll right on past. These are not smiling, welcoming, sugar-coated messages of encouragement. These are Dirty Truths.

Asks. We love them, we hate them. We ask for them. Constantly. We want people to be curious about us, we want people to tear us apart, we want people to care. We reblog stupid lists with stupid questions sure to illicit even stupider answers that will never tell anyone a goddamn thing about you, not really, and then we get pissed that no one was interested in what color the walls of our room are [white] or how old we were when we lost our virginity [13] or if we own a car [yes]. But honestly? It makes no fucking difference.

All those fucking people who ask you numbers or give you colors or any of that other shit don’t really care about the answers to the questions. Who thinks the color of the walls of your room matters? If you answered yes to that question, you have a sure and shining career in interior design awaiting you. People who play those games with you only play those games with you because they’re just as fucking bored as you are and can’t find anything better to do. If they were really curious about you, and wanted to get to know you, they’d send you a message that said “Hi, you seem really interesting and I’d like to get to know you better. Tell me a story.”

Because that’s how you get to know somebody. By hearing their stories. You can collect a 1,000-page volume of demographical and statistical information about somebody and still not know them. Sure, you can run down someone’s birthday, age, location, favorite color, favorite food, favorite city, favorite record album, favorite movie, favorite television show, favorite book, favorite drink, whether they’ve done any drugs, whether they’ve had sex, etc., etc., etc. But do you really know them? Fuck no. You just know a lot of bullshit about them, and it’s the same bullshit as millions of other people will say. There’s approximately 1,473,928,002 people whose favorite color is blue. You don’t even have to look that shit up, you can trust me — that’s a true fact. You know what it tells you about them? Nothing aside from the fact that if you bought them a blue shirt there’d be a 33% greater chance they’d like it even if they disliked the cut or it didn’t fit that great.

But you’re not gonna buy them a blue shirt, are you? No, of course not. Because one does not simply run around buying shirts for people one doesn’t know (Unless you do, in which case, message me and I’ll give you my address. I’d like a new shirt. My favorite color is purple. Thank you.)

Because here’s the dirty truth: We’re bored and lonely and want people to pay attention to us.

Why do you post fucking GPOYs? Because you want somebody to say you’re fucking hot. Why do you ask for asks? Because you want somebody to send you one. You want more than one somebody to send you one. Because you feel alone and you want to be alone with other people, which sometimes makes you feel less alone, and sometimes makes you feel more so. Trust me on that. Really, you should just trust me, blindly, because I write shit and say fuck a lot.

I’m not gonna freak out about how you should stop asking for asks, because then two hours later I will ask for asks and feel like a fucking hypocrite. Ask for asks, that’s cool. But these fucking reblog things … sheesh. I don’t care, you don’t care, nobody cares. I say this as someone who’s done them. I answer 2 or 3 and get bored. Seriously. What I am gonna do is give you a super-secret time-honored method of getting more asks than you can handle. Are you ready for it? Are you sure? Are you sure you’re sure?

…

Alright … the best way to get a bunch of asks … is to send them. It’s amazing. When you take the time to talk to people, they tend to respond back! And then maybe they ask you shit back! And then before you know it you’re having a full-fledged conversation, even if it’s about something silly like ducks. If you want people to be curious about you — be curious about them. Curiosity is a two-way street and if you don’t believe me ask a cat. Although come to think of it maybe that’s not a question you should query a cat about. You might not like the cat’s answer.

And … okay … one more thing, since I mentioned replies. For the love of all that has ever been considered holy, up to and including the many forms of god, please please pretty please with unicorns on top stop publishing every single fucking ask you get. If somebody sends you an ask and says “thanks for the follow” — just say “the pleasure’s mine” and hit the damn “answer privately” button. Do all of your followers really need to see that conversation? I mean, it’s not even a conversation. It’s a courtesy. If I bump into you in the grocery store, I’m gonna say “excuse me.” If you’re right behind me as I’m opening a door, I’m gonna hold it open and say “after you.” Are you gonna strap on a bull horn and shout “THANK YOU!” through it for a two-block radius to hear? No! There’s a distinction between public and private. Learn it, and learn what might be interesting to everyone who follows you or stumbles upon your blog, versus what isn’t.

But you know what? Fuck asks … just … fucking … the innuendo ruined my tag line. >.<