j_scrivner

And now ladies and gentlemen I shall give unto myself my birthday present. From me, to me. A few days belated and maybe a good while behind schedule. But no doubt timely.

I'm through with complainers. With people condemning their own fellow human beings so harshly. With constantly cutting things down all the time. I'm weary of knee-jerk reactions. With dragging everyone in the mire. I'm done with criticizing all the fucking joy out of life. I'm sick of the chin-stroking. Of mistake-analysis. Of the judgment of artists based on ability. Of judgement of the art based on merit. Because how can you judge a thing based on merit when it comes from the passion of man's heart? Of the joy of doing it? Of love and sacrifices? Shitting on other people's lives only highlights your own fucked-up-ed-ness. That's what happened to Uncle Bill.

I'm through with the distractions, but not with the dealing of them. I will purge them from my mind by blasting through them. "X is a distraction. I will get through X in order to get to Y." Yeah, maybe this will be the idea that will change my life around.

I'm sick of pretending all the fucking time. Of playing devil's advocate. Of not knowing the trees from the wood anymore.

I don't want to hear the opinions you don't even really have.

I'm tired of the backhanded compliments and the condescending fucking remarks. Fuck you. Fuck you very much.

I'm sick of shitting on accomplishment. I'm sick of having the priorities misaligned. Of the waiting for something to happen instead of the digging in and trudging ahead.

The slogan of the 23rd year shall be: No More Peer-Review. You don't like how things are getting done? Go jump off a fucking cliff.

I've got shit to do.


P.S.Thanks to everyone who sent me birthday wishes and who came to my party. I had a fucking blast. I love you all. Without exception.

(Except for the two assholes that stole all that beer. Fuck those guys.)