I'm actually being e-harassed by a fifteen year old pissant.

How immature and sad is this dude's life? How horrible is it to be so wrapped up in fan-fiction that when someone says even one thing that is less than ADORING of the "work" they submit (which, by the way I didn't, although the piece was something a third grader might have written) they fly off the handle?

Puberty is/was a painful experience, but Jesus Fucking Christ get the fuck over it. And if his friends love what he does so much (which, by the way, I don't believe they could because it would have to be LEGIBLE first), well, bully for him. It certainly doesn't mean I have to.

So. . .once again, fuck this place.

Message me for my email if you want it.

I believe that's my cue to exit.

after browsing in the fiction gallery, I am having SERIOUS thoughts about leaving DA for good.

1) I do get comments from a few people who actually read what I post, and I appreciate them--those are the only people I'd even CONSIDER staying in contact with, if they were interested in continuing to read my POS work.

2) There are a very few people who post here whose work I actually enjoy and/or find worthy of my time.
2.a) I cannot stand fan fiction, the Japanese anime crap, the Japanese vampire hunting crap, the JAPANESE HARRY POTTER FAN FICTION CRAP, the poorly constructed sentences, the misuse of italics, bolds and underlines, the horrible dialogue, the ridiculous LACK of plot.. . almost everything about the galleries, with rare exceptions, is worthless, tiresome and ridiculous. I'm only nineteen and no, my writing was not pristine or perfect, but I wrote better at the age of 9 than most of these kids do at the age of 15!

3) I started submitting to this site as a way of showing my friends my "work". It evolved into an actually critical dialogue with other artists along the way. Now I have to slog through page after page of crap to find something halfway decent, and it's not worth it.

so. . .I might not ever post on here again. Email if needed.

yah, you heard me.

in other news





I am not writing, but I am formulating, and thinking, and dreaming, and walking around in that semi-awake state I am so fond of, where everything is real but removed and only important in the details that pertain to my next story idea.



but when the police come knocking on the door twice in less than a month looking for the weed we aren't growing or selling, the creative state sort of gets shattered and that's where I am sitting, on top of a pile of ideas and half formed characters and bare glimpses of "what it could be if I actually wrote it", shaking from the visit from the narcs and sort of sick to my stomach thanks to my period.

oh. and. . . panic is a mild word for the utter terror that takes me over any time and I stop and think about it.

i made pictures.
looksy.

I'm in school, pulling As. Don't laugh, it's true.

College is different. Not good or bad, just different.

I submitted a poem. Please read.


-casie.