Despite my best efforts to include a bit of reader involvement... I have been extremely disappointed. I offered all of you only the best of my drawing efforts, and in return I got a harsh reminder that nobody actually reads this blog. I know, some of you will look back at my last post and go, "No, don't be sad, gfish, what about April? She gave you pictures to spend time drawing." BUT NO. Because while I am grateful for April and her requests, I had to tell her to get over here and ask for a picture... because I'm just that much of a loser. Oh God, the neediness.
Okay, I'll stop now, I promise. I've ranted my self-loathing for the week. You can only really have a certain amount of bitching before people actually start to hate you. Besides, I'm assuming that if you are here reading this now, then you can't really hate me all that much. Hopefully. Maybe people just don't like artwork. Or love.
I feel like sometimes people just complain more than they enjoy life as it is. It's human nature to want sympathy, even if the only bad thing that's happened to you is that you dropped your Eggo on the floor that morning. Honestly, the little things are okay to listen to. My friends and I constantly complain to each other about tests, too much homework, mean teachers, and stupid people. It's when it becomes excessive that I get a bit uncomfortable.
I feel like I am usually a very good listener. When people talk to me, I shut up, nod, ask questions, and share a comfortable amount of eye contact. I am concerned and offer advice, and if there is no solution I say, "Wow, that sucks I'm so sorry" with all the earnestness I have. Unfortunately, this has no off switch. I can never seem to tell people when enough is enough. Then again I have trouble telling people anything about how I'm actually feeling if it isn't something positive. Usually my limit of emotional response is just the "really" face:
So in conclusion, I don't hate any of you, which is a good thing. Unless you love hatred, and thrive on it, and eat it for breakfast. Then you can have all of my hatred by the bucket loads, because I care about the occasionally backwards fellow that crosses my path. For the rest of you, I love you for honoring me with your presence here, reading this blog. Please release any hatred that has begun to harbor due to my occasionally self-pitying nature.
In other words, RELEASE THE KRACKEN.
Please ignore the fact that the above line may or may not relate to anything I just said.