Who are we? Where are we going? Should we even care? |
As some of you might have noticed, I'm no longer a Preferred Author. This doesn't really bother me because once I realized that being Preferred didn't really mean anything or grant me any special powers or privilages, the prideful shine wore off. What does bother me is that I was forced to delete my collection of poems. If someone could show me where it is written that I can't compile several small items together into one, I would feel a lot better. All I found where the clauses against copyright infringment and anti-abuse laws. The real question is, where does the boundery between legitamate journal and item-whore exist? You know, this whole situation reminds me of a poem I wrote I call "At the End of Time" {c}I stand at the end of time And watch the events of humanity I watch every sinful crime Every break of social sanity How far have we really come? Have we really changed that much? Giving relief to those few some Whose lives we’d care to touch We say we’ve grown better That a new age has begun I say we’ve grown bitter Like the misbegotten son Everything stays the same It’s all the original sin It’s always the same old game And in the end, no one will win I don't care about ratings or participation or even how many views I've gotten. It's the occasional good-will comments that I get that empower me to keep writing. Blackthorn (a fellow user) keeps me alive, but you keep me writing. "I can't imagine a God who would care." "I may be synthetic, but I'm not stupid." Bishop, Aliens Please read my journal "Late Night Philosophy" ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |