small_talk raze we still talk. i just don't say anything back. buried beneath all the invitations to visit nonexistent online casinos, the declarations of love from imaginary people, and the advertisements for dubious clinical trials are messages from a friend who isn't a friend anymore. only it isn't really him. it's his name attached to someone else's email address in a bid to trick me into downloading some low-rent virus designed to steal sensitive information or short-circuit my computer. i know it's little more than a lazy hacker's cheap parlour trick. still. it always makes me wonder for half a second what empty threats or mundane pleasantries would be exchanged if we ever crossed paths again. remember when we used to love each other? me neither. 230406 what's it to you? who go blather from