Cameryn Brock / Daily Nexus


I used to be happy. There were days when the sun would shine and my hopeful eyes would passionately gaze at the purest vision of peace and justice. Days when I felt safe, sound and celibate.

But now, I don’t even have the slightest clue of what happiness feels like anymore. It all started the day I was born. My mother had to have a C-section because my head was too big, so I guess you could call me a Bad Bitch from Day 1. Anyway, because this traumatic experience made me brave as hell, I didn’t think twice when I fearlessly initiated a sext on Friday at noon between me and another person whom I met last weekend in DP and who was totally down to hook up.*

* Now I’m not really sure if they wanted to hook up.


The sext was purely sensual, descriptive prose — absolutely no pictures were exchanged (I don’t think I would even survive such an L if the sext I sent was a picture). But nevertheless, the sext could pass for a Pulitzer Prize winner, I swear to God. I was throwing metaphors, onomatopoeias, and hell, even anaphoras up in that bitch. That shit was literature gold.


Long story short, my award-winning paragraph of graphic erotica got left on read. The image of seeing Read 12:16 PM still lingers at the back of my mind up to this day. I like to think that the person I sent it to jerked off to it, fell asleep, then forgot about it. But theorizing events to make me feel better simply isn’t enough. Use my experience as a learning opportunity. Here’s what to do if you or a loved one ever encounters this fucking mess:


  • Call 911 – Ask for emotional support.
  • Reevaluate your life – Who are you? Did your mother raise you to be this way? Who did she want you to become? Who do you want to become?
  • Drop out of school – Never show your face around the general vicinity of Santa Barbara ever again.
  • Compare your life to another person’s shitty one – Personally, I like to compare this incident to Iggy Azalea’s short-lived rap career. Always makes me feel better.
  • Double down- Bravely send a follow-up text. I did this and it did not turn out well.


Diana Prince’s sext got left on read and it has been the greatest worst thing to ever happen to her by far.