DUN DUN DAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Yep, this my last journal. Ever.

I've realized how pointless spending time on DeviantArt is. The writers here are mediocre at best (at least the popular ones), and really, only the artists are worth paying attention to.

So, basically, there's no real point in me spending time here. I think that if I do, I'll just end up being the next Stephanie Meyer. Every moment I spend here is another I don't spend writing or drawing or reading. And those things will make me a better writer than DeviantArt ever will.

I may upload a deviation from time to time, but it'll prolly be really negative. Like the one I just uploaded, "Machines of Hate." You see, I have this notebook that I carry around and write stories and poems 'n stuff in, and I don't want to fill it with negative, frustrated, angsty stuff. I usually don't get that worked up about things, but when I do, I'd rather send it here than in my notebook. It's this whole negative/positive chi thing I'm working on.

It's kinda ironic that I'm saying that there are "positive" writings in my notebook, 'cause there really aren't. I mean, I have one character who cuts her hands every day with a razorblade and wears a pair of black, cloth gloves to cover up the scars. Yep, that's my idea of positive. Thank you, clinical depression. You've always been so kind to me. Ooooh and Monday I meet my new therapist, which should be fun. Yeah. Let's hope he doesn't suck, or I might kill myself. Haha. Depression is so much fun, though. Especially the whole, "I'm gonna die cold and alone" part (which is prolly gonna be true).

Anyway. That's it.
Yeah.


THE END