I know I said I was thinking about getting back into writing and all that, but I've come to the decision that I'd just rather not. I've come to the conclusion that I'd rather experience art as an appreciator than a creator. Its not that I don't believe myself capable of creating the art that pours into this site daily, more that I no longer believe myself willing. While I could sit here day in and day out typing out either the fantasy stories or love-sick poems that blossom in my head, the fact is thats no way to live a life. I've finally been forced to admit that a life on the internet is no substitute for a real one.

Though I've often argued against this point in the past, chat rooms and myspace are no substitute for human interaction. The comfort of having people to confide in without having to look them in the face had tricked me into false security for far too long. The fact is that person will turn around and give you advice without a second thought to who you really are; because the fact of the matter is that they don't really know you, no matter how much both of you think the opposite. And God forbid you actually grow close enough to someone to meet them in person. They'll keep up the facade they created when talking to you online long enough; but eventually they show their true colors, and the let down could not be greater. Its at these times you learn how easy it is for someone to lie to you when they don't have to look you in the face.

If that is what the internet truly is, I want no part of it.

Now before assumptions are made, I'm not calling everyone I've ever spoken to online a liar. But I've learned that too many people are too weak to resist the temptation of creating themselves in their own image which they want to be seen in. Of the few people I have met online and come face to face with have proven me right in this. Am I guilty of this as well? Possibly. I don't deny that I want to be seen as a certain type of person. However, I aspire to that in all portions of my life. Whether it be in times of good or bad, I've maintained an image of myself that I fight hard to not let falter, be it online or face-to-face.

However, I've learned time and time again in life that I can't hold the rest of society to my own expectations without being disappointed. People - and I use the word people referring to collective society, not any individual - just are not as good at heart as the books we read as children lead us to believe. Around any corner you will find a family member willing to deceive anyone to save a buck, or a lover ready to stab you in the back.

If anything, I've learned there are few exceptions to what you may call an over generalization of corrupt human hearts. Few people I've met have lived up to being the good, honest people I originally took them for. These are the few I'm willing to call friends. The fact that I made the mistake of letting these other, more lecherous people come in between me and my friends makes me all more the fool. So never again will it happen. Never again will I let a pretty face and promises of a false love get between me and those that truly care for me, the few that were there to console me when the facade of others faltered.

Because that false love was what drew me to DeviantArt in the first place, I've decided to leave it behind. This is my real reason, what I said about being an appreciator earlier was just icing on the cake. The truth of the matter is that this place inspires memories of disdain and betrayal. So as I've done with so many journal entries before, I'll leave this final one with an excerpt from a song, one that means a lot to me.




Now I tell myself I've mended.
Under these patches of blue sky,
theres still a few wholes that
let in a little rain.
And its been crying on my shingle,
the floorboards moan under my feet,
the refrigerators whining,
so I've got reason to complain.

But I'm not gunna bless you
with such compliments.
Some degrading song of praise,
like the kind that converted
you to me so long ago.
Because the truth is that gossips
as good as gospel in this town,
You can save face, but you won't ever save your soul.
Baby, thats a fact.

So hurry up and run to the one that you love,
and tie him up in your likeness.
And he'll become, become
the prisoner I was and he'll know
all that had spoiled in your heart.