Okay, let's clarify things here before anyone worries: NO, I am not going to do anything stupid like killing myself.
Now that we've clarified, let's begin.
My life has been a tremendous pile of shit lately. Two very very very VERY big reasons why are following, but I'd like to state something right now. I'm writing this because writing helps me cope and helps me feel better. If you come onto this journal and start lolgasming at me, I have no pity or remorse for you. You kick me when I'm down, you're so dead to me that it's not even worth the trolling because you won't get an answer.
My mate's biological mother has essentially crucified me to anyone who'll listen to her. It's been nearly a month since it happened and it's not getting any better. A very personal and long-winded explanation not-with-standing, the woman thinks I control my mate with a deathgrip and refuse to let him be what she wants him to be. She has blamed me for all of his problems (when he doesn't) and has damned me.
That hurt. A lot.
Two days ago, the car company who owns the lease on my car, instead of working with me to help ease the loan on it, just decided to repossess the motherfucker. I completed all the paperwork necessary and sent it back, but I'm waiting on them to even approve it. They may still deny me, sell off my car, and force me to pay the remainder regardless of being without vehicle transportation. I find out sometime soon, but until then, I'm left to stew in my own misery. Plus, the money that it'll cost to release the car is nearly more than I can bear. We'll be able to, barely, but there'll be no frivolities for us for a long while...and my planned trip to Canada is axe-murdered until I can start saving again. Oh, and I'm still on unemployment.
With all of this going on, I had a major epiphany and it starts here.
I'm not happy with myself. I'm not happy with a lot of what I was and what I've become...but most of all, I'm just...not caring about being a furry anymore. It doesn't carry anything special and regardless of how I feel, I'm definitely not anything special to anyone who reads me here.
Oh sure, you read my stories and what little artwork I post, but really, who are we kidding here? You don't care. I could post the most important, most influential talk-log of the 21st century and maybe, juuuust maybe, three people would look at it. None would comment because...well, it doesn't make dick hard.
Don't get mad or indignant, you know it's true. People watch me *peripherally*, not in full interest, because the majority of what I say doesn't entail their penis being stiff for any real reason. I get sagenods and the occasional hug or two, but I'm not stupid or naive.
You just don't care.
It's fine. I'm not mad about it, not really. It's gotten me off my ass to do something I've been putting off for a very long time. I cleaned out my journals (barring the most recent one pimping my friend's artwork) because I don't want to look back here and remember. And honestly, have any of you really looked through them? Taken the time to get to know me? No.
I'm not angry or upset at any of you. I have no reason to be. You're human, after all, and I can't expect to be the center of attention to everyone. Nor can I expect, with the subject matter of the majority of my posts, to be watched or even commented on or about. I got angry about it for awhile, but I just realized that I am caring too much about something no one else does. Sure, I can write good and can do my part to help people feel better...but I know when enough is enough...and when I'm only fooling myself.
With all that said, I'm out. I'll leave my stuff up for anyone who wants a look at a failed attempt at being social and fade back into near-complete anonymity. Anyone who is on my friends lists in chats can expect to see me there and anyone who knows me enough to know how much I am emotionally hurt right now can relax. I know who my friends are and who really cares about me more than just the occasional stiffy and, more to the point, I know the difference between the two.
But let's be clear on one thing: I'm still furry inside. I've always felt the wolf inside. He's always a part of me. I just have no reason to be one outside to everyone who'll look at me. I don't need conventions, I don't need attention, and I certainly don't need approval to validate the wolf inside. Never have. My friends and family love me and respect that about me.
The rest of you will just have to go somewhere else to paw off. Sorry, but that's how it is. Chances are, when you saw the size of this journal, you left already, so who am I kidding?
I'm still Zephon. I'm just not going to be posting anything for a very long while. That's all.
Thank you and good night.