Okay.. so that kick-ass girl at alone reviews got through to me a little.
She wrote in my guestbook her motto in life: "Do what you want, as long as you don't hurt people on your way."
Alright, so I haven't thought about my rants in that manner. Then again, a diary is not meant to look out for the feelings of others, but no matter. I used to be a thoughtful, sensitive soul. And I used to pride myself on that fact. But I never thought it would be possible to hurt someone, who, well, didn't know me. I never considered that I, personally, could make such an effect.
And I still don't think I could, for the most part. And especially not the specific type of people I've been talking about.
To reiterate a past entry, I'd like to show that I've made a little distinction for the dispersion of my sympathy and compassion.
I dunno.. a sincere person who has a problem like that, who cuts themself.. wouldn't really relish in it like this. Wouldn't encourage others to do so. Would be trying to stop. It's a private thing, I would think. A private struggle, and not something to shock or try to conjure up sympathy or admiration from others.
Because there are those who have that problem and really struggle with it. But it's done in private, and, often, no one would know. The one with the sincere problem wouldn't be flaunting it everywhere.
And then there are those who do flaunt it, people like these girls, and, really.. their goal is attention. For that, their struggle is hollow, and they deserve no sympathy.
Does that make sense?
If not, oh well-
I tried.
But, yes, not a word of what I say is going to help anybody, much less be understood. It's just frustrating, is all. And that's why I rant about it.
And.. ha. I write about things that annoy me. Sooo true. I've never even caught that myself. My diary being about things that annoy me. I didn't want that to happen. I wanted to write about happier things. About little gems and oddities of life. But.. I guess you could say that I'm in a constant state of annoyance. There's so much around here to provoke it: Orlando, my job, my car, constant chatter from this guy I have to live with [I swear, he doesn't know how to shut up.]. And.. there's just nothing for me to give me any sort of relief, much less any hint of happiness.
*shrug*
So that's my life: annoyance.
So that's what I write about.
At least for now.