EAT EXCREMENT AND PERISH, YOU THOUGHTLESS COW!!!

I am so upset right now that I am shaking. Physically shaking.

I can barely type. I was having a some trouble sleeping, so I decided to reply to some of the feedback left at the Cursing Ferret archive. Well, some stupid trollina f***tard decided to leave comments on Drop and Lemondrops as "your mom" and "your dad". I don't have to stand for the kinds of things being said of my parents in those so-called reviews. I WON'T stand for it. I'll stop writing fic and yank all my sh*t off of everywhere before I put up with that kind of asinine and cruel type of troll prank. My parents are one of the few things I have NO sense of humor about. If anything like that happens again, I am turning the review system off, and people can just email me like they did before I had that nifty archive.... or most of that stuff is posted at TtH too. They can just get an account and post reviews there. I deleted those reviews. I couldn't even stand to look at them. They were just... cruel to me.

I really don't care to explain why this upset me so much. Those of you who know me better know why it would. It's been a long time since I have actually felt like I could rip something to pieces with my bare hands. I seriously need to meditate or something right now because I am just too angry for words. When words won't even solve it for me, that's just too volatile.

I know I'll never stop writing. That would be like trying not to breathe, but this is just one more reason for me not to want to write fic anymore. I'm becoming jaded already. I know I shouldn't bitch because I have lovely fans. I have a support system most ficsters would KILL for, but there's only so much a body can take before you have to say "f*** it". I'm not a quitter, but even I get tired.

good karma

How do the fates know when I need something like this? How does it just so happen when I think I'm at the end of my tether, someone does something that reminds me of what my purpose is.

This is one reason why I won't stop writing...

( good karma )

How in the hell did *I* turn out to be one of those people who do things that seem insignificant to me, but mean the world to someone else? How did I get this gig? If I provide an escape for someone for even two minutes together then all of this is worth it. I forgot that for a moment. I was put here to write. That is my purpose. It's the only thing I do really well. I love it, and damn anyone who makes me not love it for even a minute.