Last Post

Well folks, it's been real. A lot has happened since I first got this journal, most of it stuff I don't want to think about/no longer care about, so I've decided to make a move. My new fic journal can be found here:

so if you'd like to follow me there, most of my posts/fic can be found there from now on. Old and new RPing friends, people I've met over the years, I'm extending an invite to you guys in particular. You may not understand all the fic, but I hope you come along for the ride. If you choose not to come, I understand, but will still miss you. Most of you, anyway.

Whether you choose to come or not, take care of yourselves and trust I'll do the same.

(no subject)

With the amount of work and other things I have to do, I feel recently less like I was run over by a bus than I was run over by a bus, resurrected, and then trampled. Very tired. Drowning in lots of garbage that has come up in lots of areas of life all at once.

Therefore, when I say 'don't bug me,' I mean it. Don't. You'll only piss me off. I've reached the point where I want to hear nothing and I mean absolutely nothing.

That is all.


The day's barely started and already it's kinda crappy. My wrist popped last night when I went to get out of the shower and it still aches despite the fact I wasn't using it at all before. Work was an absolute nightmare yesterday. I see no point to the Superbowl, never have, and yesterday just confirms to me that people around me have no lives outside of sports, the end.

I think on most matters, unless someone catches me on AIM and makes contact totally necessary, I'm going to be a complete hermit for awhile. Thanks all for understanding.


As predicted, lost the contest. I guess I should have known there was no hope when third place won because 'it had a crazy plot.' Isn't that why stories shouldn't win? WTF? It looks like either you had to know the person running the contest or come up with something popular among the young teenagers to win. Disgusting.

No more contests. No more writing for the time being unless it's for fun.

Yes, this is my journal. I'm allowed to rant in it. Nothing further to add in terms of life itself. Most posts concerning that aren't very exciting anyway.


I don't even have a career in writing and I already feel like a washed up hack whose days of doing anything even remotely good are over.

What's up with that? I thought it only got this depressing after you actually published something.

And in other news:

Losing this contest too. Oh yes indeed. Go me.
  • Current Mood
    apathetic apathetic


Four incarnations later, and the contest entry is done. Complete and utter crap in that I really one day need to edit/revise it and it's completely not my best work by any means, but it's submitted. There are 38 entries total. Thirty-'effin'-eight. Wow man, just, wow.

I don't have a snowball's chance in a pressure cooker, but at least I made a deadline and can compete in something. My entry, started last night, was about 24 pages long total. Wonky spacing for 'net reading aside, I'm sure if it was done in a standard way it'd be closer to maybe..18 pages?

Head hurts, but I feel accomplished. Yay.

Festive New Year

I'm off to a party tomorrow night with some friends. Will also be pulling the mad rush to finish my contest entry and hoping against hope to get it done as of midnight the first (when the person running it is accepting the absolute last entries). I won't be around much until after New Year's, after which I plan on being the laziest human being I can aspire to be. I've really broken my ass over the past few months, have undergone a lot of crap, and can honestly say to myself that I've friggin' earned it, dammit.

Happy New Year, folks.

I love/can pretty well tolerate most of you.

The rest of you can drink battery acid.

Have a good day.