I know the risks, yet I do it.

Curiosity kills the cat.

When people stalk they know the rules. They know that there are only two options after it: either be happy about what you knew or be sad and frustrated about it.

Stalking does no one any good. But people still take the risk. Even though there is fat chance that one will just get hurt in the end.

But, for a stalker like me, I know. I know the risks. I know I’ll get hurt. Still, I get on with it. No one and nothing can protect my feelings more than I can. And as of the moment, I don’t want to protect it. So no one needs to hide anything from me. I want to know. With that, it’s my responsibility to handle the pain it may cause. But handling it won’t be much of a problem ‘coz right now, I want it to feel pain… masochistic as it may be, I want to… to know it’s real. To know they have been real.

What you don’t know won’t kill you, true enough. Still, it’s always better to know and to be hurt than to don’t know and not be hurt. At least you won’t be bugged by the question “What?” for the rest of your life. What does she look like? What are her assets? And a lot of things that COULD be the answer to a lot of questions unfolding onto your head.

Stalking a person is bad. But, will it be THAT bad if you don’t have any ill intentions AGAINST the person you are stalking?

I simply just want to know, nothing more. I do not intend to use what I see to blackmail anyone. I don’t have a game to play. To top it all, I already lost it before it even began. I just want answers to my questions. Questions that I think will remain unanswered for the rest of my life. So can one really blame me for resorting to this kind of low method?