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Part 1: Handling "Dangly-meat"
There are times when people string you along.
They offer rewards that they intend not to give.
I call this "dangly-meat".
It's bait.
Sometimes you have to tell yourself;
"If you get this dangly-meat it will be rotten."
"It will be Rancid"
"It will be full of maggots."
"It will make you sick."
"It will poison you."
"You will wish that you had JUST CUT THE LINE!"
Wisdom *MUST* be applied.
You can not do this with all things.
You must have the wisdom to know yourself well enough to KNOW that cutting what you are cutting, even if "good" in the end, will benefit you in the long-run, and that even *IF* all ends well, it will not have been worth the pain and suffering.
"A thousand lives lost to save a hundred."
You will *NEVER* achieve 100% accuracy.
That's not the point.
The point is making sure that you come out as best as you can.
Damage control.
Damage control is the point.
I'm abandoning ship.
I'll man the life rafts that I can.
I will save what I can, but I'm getting off of this sinking nightmare!
I'll make the tiny, limited "happy endings" that I can.
I am one person.
I can't fend off the tides.
I can't save the world, but I can defend a few precious shards of it.
I can't look at this as cowardice, merely a matter beyond my mortal capabilities.
It is a victory, for I am closer to understanding my own limits.
This being said, on to the next subject at hand...
Part 2: Ian Flynn, you cruel bastard.
Exploring the deepest depths of despair.
This is REALITY.
This is what we go to fantasy to ESCAPE!
During the first and second World Wars, Super Heroes were created.
They were made to give us hope. To light our darkest hours.
In this darkest of hours, Ian Flynn, you have killed the light.
Why now?
You terrible writer.
You terrible "artist".
You terrible man.
You terrible human being.
You terrible excuse for a carbon-based life form.
I have never met you, so I can not say that I hate you.
But I hate and despise what you have done.
I curse your work with all my heart.
And I curse you with all the force I have at my disposal, however tiny and insignificant it may be.
Damn you.
Damn you to Hell, Ian Flynn.
Whatever, wherever "Hell" may be, I solemnly wish it to you.
I know you will never see this. No matter.
I have spoken my peace.
Rest in Peace, Princess Sally Alicia Acorn Prime
11/1992 - 10/2011
You are loved, and will be missed.
There are times when people string you along.
They offer rewards that they intend not to give.
I call this "dangly-meat".
It's bait.
Sometimes you have to tell yourself;
"If you get this dangly-meat it will be rotten."
"It will be Rancid"
"It will be full of maggots."
"It will make you sick."
"It will poison you."
"You will wish that you had JUST CUT THE LINE!"
Wisdom *MUST* be applied.
You can not do this with all things.
You must have the wisdom to know yourself well enough to KNOW that cutting what you are cutting, even if "good" in the end, will benefit you in the long-run, and that even *IF* all ends well, it will not have been worth the pain and suffering.
"A thousand lives lost to save a hundred."
You will *NEVER* achieve 100% accuracy.
That's not the point.
The point is making sure that you come out as best as you can.
Damage control.
Damage control is the point.
I'm abandoning ship.
I'll man the life rafts that I can.
I will save what I can, but I'm getting off of this sinking nightmare!
I'll make the tiny, limited "happy endings" that I can.
I am one person.
I can't fend off the tides.
I can't save the world, but I can defend a few precious shards of it.
I can't look at this as cowardice, merely a matter beyond my mortal capabilities.
It is a victory, for I am closer to understanding my own limits.
This being said, on to the next subject at hand...
Part 2: Ian Flynn, you cruel bastard.
Exploring the deepest depths of despair.
This is REALITY.
This is what we go to fantasy to ESCAPE!
During the first and second World Wars, Super Heroes were created.
They were made to give us hope. To light our darkest hours.
In this darkest of hours, Ian Flynn, you have killed the light.
Why now?
You terrible writer.
You terrible "artist".
You terrible man.
You terrible human being.
You terrible excuse for a carbon-based life form.
I have never met you, so I can not say that I hate you.
But I hate and despise what you have done.
I curse your work with all my heart.
And I curse you with all the force I have at my disposal, however tiny and insignificant it may be.
Damn you.
Damn you to Hell, Ian Flynn.
Whatever, wherever "Hell" may be, I solemnly wish it to you.
I know you will never see this. No matter.
I have spoken my peace.
Rest in Peace, Princess Sally Alicia Acorn Prime
11/1992 - 10/2011
You are loved, and will be missed.
When it finally clicks...
(I'm going to throw this one out sloppy, so please pardon/disregard any grammar/spelling/continuity errors that you may find. I also pulled an all-night'er, so this counts double.)
So here I am, working on Sally, (my articuplush/doll), when I realize that all the flak that I've gotten over the years for this project weren't all just people messing with me for the lulzy "I want to fit in" value; but some of these people actually believe their statements and accusations are true!
So my hands are burnishing wood parts while I'm thinking "wtf?" (there's a good twenty to thirty minutes of mental chatter, about a third of the snippets containing
Attn: Trolltards
WARNING: BY POSTING STUPID EMPTY ACCUSATIONS ON MY PAGE, YOU ARE OPENLY ADMITTING THAT...
~spotlightplz (https://www.deviantart.com/spotlightplz)YOU ARE A FUCKING MORON:iconspotlightplz:
Ooookay, One. Last. Time.
For all the brain-dead little retards who feel the need unearthly compulsion to say something about me having "used a real human skeleton to make a fuckdoll", I have some very bad news for you...
You do not possess free will, you simply lack that property of sentience.
You *MUST* obey the Fucktard Collective (similar to The Borg, but hopelessly derped up beyond all salvation), you have no choice.
It is not your doing.
You HAVE no doing, no soul.
You're just s
Masks
We wear masks for various reasons. Sometimes to get a job. Sometimes to fit in. Sometimes because we're afraid people won't like our real self.
Some people wear the mask for so long that it becomes their face. It talks for them, has friends, and eventually pushes them so far back that they all but disappear.
Some people are consumed by their masks.
I've started to take mine off.
I can hear my muse again.
I can create again.
I've posted some things lately that may surprise, shock, or even disgust others.
If I take them down, my mask wins.
I can't be the one to take them down because that would betray my creative-energies.
I'll do m
Kenpachi lives!!!!!
My desktop works again after almost a month of being down.
The hard drive was shot... so I got a 1TB (1000GB) HDD. Schewwwwt.
And yes, I named it Kenpachi.
Its system name was "Kenny", but the morning I tried to power up, the phrase "Oh my God! They killed Kenny" was one I never wanted to have the opportunity to say again.
Anyways, I get to go through reinstalling all of my programs today.
I'll be in #IamAnthro a bit more now.
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Comments4
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You do know that Sally is not dead right?