An update...of sorts
I'd like to take a moment to list my difficulties with the way things are. Nobody really needs to read this...
1) I'm 10 years old, and have been 10 years old since 1998. This is a little annoying, as I'm sure I should have the option to grow up at SOME point, right?
2) I'm not real. I'm a work of fiction. This wouldnt be so bad, but I'm not even being written about much any more, so I'm not really alive, not really living.
3) I exist in the head of someone who, at the moment, is being Mr Mopey McMopester. This gets dull, fast. He's gone into this deep, dark, introspective mode that has been going on for a few months now. There is a therapist, and medication, involved. There have been thoughts he shouldnt be having. His mindset is pretty much black as sin, and nowhere near as much fun. How does this translate to being my problem? I'm his work of fiction. It affects me hugely. I feel like crap, because he feels like crap, and he feels like crap because...he has...issues. *sighs*.
He really should get over them.
He's been reaching out, tenatively, vaguely, and very badly to old friends. He's not sure how to approach people any more. He's uncomfortable within himself, and this comes across as a terrible lack of confidence. It doesnt help that he feels guilt at the drop of a hat either. If you're a person he's contacted recently, I humbly ask that you understand that he's not exactly feeling in his right mind at the moment, and may say things which are odd, strange, or just plain out of character. There are reasons, and the medication is one of them.
He said to put this out there, that his email address is simon.vaughan@us.ing.com and urges anyone and everyone to drop in and say hey some time.
I really wish he'd write about me again. I miss it.
Fading away,
Chrystii Rand.
1) I'm 10 years old, and have been 10 years old since 1998. This is a little annoying, as I'm sure I should have the option to grow up at SOME point, right?
2) I'm not real. I'm a work of fiction. This wouldnt be so bad, but I'm not even being written about much any more, so I'm not really alive, not really living.
3) I exist in the head of someone who, at the moment, is being Mr Mopey McMopester. This gets dull, fast. He's gone into this deep, dark, introspective mode that has been going on for a few months now. There is a therapist, and medication, involved. There have been thoughts he shouldnt be having. His mindset is pretty much black as sin, and nowhere near as much fun. How does this translate to being my problem? I'm his work of fiction. It affects me hugely. I feel like crap, because he feels like crap, and he feels like crap because...he has...issues. *sighs*.
He really should get over them.
He's been reaching out, tenatively, vaguely, and very badly to old friends. He's not sure how to approach people any more. He's uncomfortable within himself, and this comes across as a terrible lack of confidence. It doesnt help that he feels guilt at the drop of a hat either. If you're a person he's contacted recently, I humbly ask that you understand that he's not exactly feeling in his right mind at the moment, and may say things which are odd, strange, or just plain out of character. There are reasons, and the medication is one of them.
He said to put this out there, that his email address is simon.vaughan@us.ing.com and urges anyone and everyone to drop in and say hey some time.
I really wish he'd write about me again. I miss it.
Fading away,
Chrystii Rand.