Have you ever felt the innate desire to watch a teenager reach near climax by smelling a Yankee Candle while using adjectives to describe the smell of freshly cut grass that you've never even heard before? Have you ever considered how it would feel to not have access to this content every waking moment of every waking day?
Drew the Candle Kid, the candle vlogger I have diligently cyber-stalked for five years, has BLOCKED ME ON TWITTER. This is both fucking infuriating and confusing - I have been nothing but an excellent patron to Drew's vlogs, never questioned where he has gotten the money to purchase ten jar candles a week or how he goes through three or more bottles of scented lotion a week. I never shuddered at his gross overuse of words like "divine" and "lather." I never yawned when he went on a rant about wicks and throw scent. I DIDN'T LAUGH AT HIS WICKED TATTOO.
WHAT KIND OF FONT IS THAT, DREW? It doesn't matter. He will never see this. Because. He. Blocked. Me.
I do not know why Drew the Candle Kid would block me. I am his biggest fan. In spite of years of listening to Drew talk about his sensitive skin, he has never answered one of my messages.
Is it because used to tell a joke about him that was full of lies and posted it on the internet? Is it because I used to email him incessantly and ask him to be a part of my "blog" that I had that "profiled interesting people," which did not exist?
Drew the Candle Kid is humorless.
Who do I cyberstalk, if not Drew the Candle Kid? Az4Angela? As if her Bath and Body Works rant from 2013 could even hold a candle (wick trimmed, with high notes of why the FUCK did Drew block me on Twitter). Angela Lansbury? The Miz? Teenage ASMRtists? Idina Menzel? Not Idina Menzel. Drew loves Idina Menzel. I would also speculate that he loves the Minions franchise.
I wrote a 4,000 word essay on this feeling that I am having, then realized it is naught more than grief. I'm going to go drink a Colt 45 and sit on the edge of a cliff, pensive. I'm leaving a snog I wrote about Drew here, and you can use it as my suicide note. You can sing it to the tune of Candle in the Wind.
Goodbye, Drew the Kid
Though you never answered my fucking email
You had a 480pp webcam
While those around you viewed
They found your teenage Facebook
And they whispered in your feed
They buffered you to stardom
And they watched you change the same
And it seems to me you're still alive
But you fucking blocked me on Twitter
Who the fuck do you think you are?
I AM FRAGILE THIS IS BULLSHIT
AND I WOULD HAVE LIKED TO FOLLOW YOU ON TWITTER
LIKE YOUR CANDLE TWEETS AND VIDS
NEVER KNOWING WHAT YOU ATE FOR LUNCH
TRIM MY WICK, TRIM MY SINS
And I would have liked to have known you
But you wouldn't answer my fucking email
Your candle burned out long before
Just kidding, I have no idea
You blocked me on Twitter
Godspeed, my love. Keep on believing that Harry Slatkin is the "satan of candles" and never buy a thesaurus. I forgive u.