"Say what you want about me, I don't care"

"I am who I am, so deal with it"

Diagnosis: You suffer from a mild to severe case of low self esteem, and in order to get people to give their opinions about you and/or be angry with you, you have said that you don't care about their opinions. This is called displacement. You are in effect shifting the blame for your own feelings of personal self-worthlessness to others, so that you don't have to deal with the fact that it's you who is at fault for those feelings. You push people away as a cry for attention, because secretly, so secretly that even you might not know it, you want people to notice you. The fact is that people don't care about you either, because you are a total stranger to people. In time they might have come to care about you, except you pushed everyone away by trying to prove your independence (and thus gain respect). Therefore it is your own fault that no one of worth cares about you, and your personal problems are your own doing.

Seriously people, I've met so many different types of people that say things like the quotes above, and it's just not necessary. I can't understand why people would purposely act like assholes to others, when life is so short and so precious. News flash you egocentric sons of bitches, no one has to 'deal with it'. They can do as most probably do, look at you in scorn and turn away to find someone who will smile and treat them well. And when you're all alone, you'll have no one to blame but yourself, because you drove people away.

Smile. Laugh. Your life might be bad, but it's never as bd as it could be. Be happy for what you have, hold life precious, and hold the love of people precious. Otherwise, have a nice, lonely existence and stop raining on everyone else's love parade.

Well, I've agreed to take over Kaimee's responsibilities now that she and Shanra are gone, at least where graphics are concerned. It's a pretty intimidating load, and I have to say that I'm somewhat gobsmacked about it, especially when one considers that I find myself with less and less time to dedicate to these communities nowadays. I'll do the best I can, though. I'd hate to see writersco stalled over a tiff.

stupid mood swings. stupid stupid stupid.

I do wish people would get involved in the forums. It's impossible to have an intelligent debate when I'm the only person there, since I 'm missing that key component.

I should really start getting more sleep, or sleep at better hours of the day. The last week or so has felt like a long a lingering an infinitesimal, wakng dream. One would think that such a state would be ideal for writing, but in fact it tends to leave me in a constant state of o.o that involves a great deal of staring while thoughts like "I wonder if I should get up and get the phone before it rings a few more times" parade about the innards of my skull. 

Ah well, at least the fighting in my house has been minimal lately. But I'm going to sleep now, so everyone, have a wonderful night/day.

Since Elftown doesn't seem to want to work for me right now, I'll stick this part of my RP edit there in my blod here for later retrieval. Dammit.

The black and blue spheres take on a momentary glimmer before shattering into a billion shards, shards that enfold Yue and Nuria within an endless march of gossamer strands. The bottom drops out of the nonexistent floor, allowing them to freefall to a floor just below.

"Good guess," Yue mutters. "Look around you. This section of the maze leads down to the master clock room, a shrine built around the temporal point from which all strands of time originate. It's not going to be a picnic getting down there, though." 

The two stand at the very top of a cavernous shaft of mortar and diamond, littered with cogs, gears, wheels, and clock parts of every sort. The noise is enough that Yue has to shout to be heard. He gestures towards a small clockface on the wall, one that hasn't been wound. A key sticks out from the base.

"Ask yourself this, if you want the wheels of time to freeze and allow you passage. Ask yourself what time it is when the time is half past yesterday."

At the end of every day, I think its important for a person to look back on what they've done and say 'hey, this is what I want to be doing'. Whether that person is lying with that statement is moot.

Well. I finished reading The Hitchhiker's guide to the Galaxy today. I really felt like I'd been cheated, and whoever paid the six bucks for the paperback needed his money back. A book with no real storyline, without an ending to speak of... I missed the boat on that one, I think. I just didn't get it. The book was amusing in many places, but it was more like a sketch from a comedy show than a novel. Needless to say, I didn't look through the 92-page 'bonus' section on 'the making of the movie'. I heard that the movie was lame compared to the book. I can't imagine anything being lame compared to that book, so I'll skip it.

Damn. I mean... this is freakin' awesome! My girlfriend just wrote a passage, for no particular reason, that stood head and shoulders above anything I've read, period motherfreakin dot. I'm spellbound at the moment, and I consider myself a pretty harsh critic.

Fifth in a row, by the way.

When the last login list is all blank, that's when you know you're a charter member. *grins* I tried shooting off my mouth in the forums, but so far only the techy stuff has gotten answered. Soon, I'm sure.

I now own the last four blog entries in a row.

Hm. It's like a cemetary in here. I feel like I'm standing in a really big, empty room, with nice neat blue walls. Must have more member, but not such an overwhelming glompin' number as Elftown, to preserve balance. Hm.

Alright, several poems uploaded with only one snafu. I like this system, I really do... it takes some thinking, but once its done... well, it's like a wyvern's shelf minus the weeks of waiting and the crowding of thousands of members. People really don't give hedda and crew enough credit for this kind of thing, and neither will I. ^_^ No need to break the mold.

Blog, eh? My oh my such a cutting edge tern for a diary. 

I'm hoping that this writersco thing will be completely unnecessary, that is, I hope Elftown recovers from its mortal wound of assclowns.. but I doubt it. That said, I hope that this place actually turns out to be productive.