ass-lazy tropicana of the mind
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2001-05-11
A brief rant about conversation
Sometimes I wonder if people are talking about me.
Wait, no, that's probably wrong.
I know people talk about me. Sometimes I wonder what they're saying about me.
It's natural that people would talk about me -- or, at least, my sites. People go to them, people decide if they like them or not. People read my stories, decide if they like them or not.
People read this journal, and decide if they like me or not.
It just irks me that I can't know what's going on. That people pull passive-agressive shit and not ever say anything to my face.
Come on. You got a problem with me? Tell me. To my face. Send me an email. Leave a message in the guestbook.
Get of f your pathetic ass and do something about it.
Don't bitch to your "friends" (who will always rat you out once they're in trouble). Don't get all vague in your blog or journal. If you have a problem with me and the way I run things, say it to my face.
No one will, of course. Everyone's so scared of people getting pissed off. Everyone's scared that they'll be the one that'll make people leave fandom.
If someone's determined to leave the fandom, anything you say won't do a bit of fucking good. And every single fucking person who has a huge on-list strop and leaves...
...comes back. Because they need the attention.
Cowards. The whole fucking lot of them.
Go on. If you have a problem, say something. To anyone. If they can't handle it, fuck 'em.
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