bzarcher | Don't fucking touch me. (Reply)

I was having a very good day, until about 30 seconds before I left work.

Why? Well, this is what I got when I said "See you later" to some people on M3, where I'd been slumming the last 20 minutes or so of work.

(Censored) pages: sighs...
"What's wrong?"
-"I closed the account on the Gargoyles MUSH today."
"Oh. I'm sorry. That sucks."
-"Why do you say that?"
"Well, it was a neat idea. I'm sorry it didn't work out."
-"That's funny, since it was your fault it started to die."
"....."
-"I'm leaving, here, and MUSHing in general, anyhow. So it doesn't matter. But it started when you decided to leave Gargoyles. I don't like people that betray me."

It was funny. I felt my body clench up just like I used to when my father started talking quiet, and telling me that it was my fault for something. I felt my chest tense up, because that's where he likes to hit first.

It's amazing what the body remembers no matter how hard the mind works to forget.

You. Stuck up. Bitch.

You scream about how people don't trust you or hate you. You talk about how "people say you're hard to work with." Talk about how hard things are for you. You were even begging me to help you with descriptions for a new character you were getting and used my ideas verbatim.

You have no fucking clue.

Do you want to know what hate is?

Hate is a fist or a belt to the face from the person who's supposed to be teaching you how to be an adult.

Hate is having the typewriter you use to communicate legibly because you don't have complete control of your hands for the first 10 years of your life kicked away, broken in half, and kicked back to you before 6 people jump on you.

Hate is having to watch friends and loved ones get hurt without being able to do a damn thing.

Hate is knowing every day that you're letting the people who are important to you down.

You say "I killed" the Gargoyles MUSH?

I'm sorry. I took an offer from someone who decided they liked my work, just like you did.

I'm not the one who told me -to my face- that "Anyone who works as staff here is someone I can't trust."

You're not the one who fired me from there, then started asking me to come back because your mood swings kept costing you staff.

I didn't do anything? I -busted- my ass for you, just like every other job. I wrote character profiles until I fell asleep at the keyboard, which you then said were "great" before losing them.

Get the FUCK over yourself.

I know more about hate, and rage, and betrayal than you ever will. The first 17 years of my life were spent screaming inside.

Hell, you want betrayal?

MY FUCKING BODY IS KILLING ME, AND THERE ISN'T A DAMN THING I CAN DO. I can lose more weight. I can keep exercising. But that doesn't matter, because more than enough of the damage is already done. Between the abnormality of my blood ph, and the rest of the things I've gone through, I probably won't like past 60, at best.

-THAT'S- Betrayal.

Leave, and have fun being alone.

I'm calming down as I've been writing. And even though I'm worried about