I Don't Belong, by Kevin Max:
Lyrics:
And so we broke up
And so you decided
It was you, it's always you
Even though we were friends
I felt uninvited
The fraternity of fools
And I'm drowning slowly
(Down we go)
And I'm fading like ink that's a hundred years old
I don't belong, say I'm wrong
Told you that you should have known me better
I don't belong, this my song, this my song
You made me your prince
You made me your pauper
Then you turned and closed the gate
Even though I messed up
There wasn't an offer of love
No mercy or no grace
And I see right through you
(see right through you)
You wanna be just like me, don't you
I don't belong, say I'm wrong, say I'm wrong
I don't belong, this my song
Told you that you should have known me better
Stupid things I've said and done
Oh don't you walk away
Battles that I've lost and won
Shame, shame, shame on me
What I used to think was wrong
I'm for the underdog
I like the one that don't belong
I don't belong, say I'm wrong
Told you that you should have known me better
I don't belong, this my song, this my song
I don't belong, say I'm wrong
Told you that you should have known me better
I don't belong, this my song
Told you that you should have known me better
You should have known me better
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Where it stands...
I am a very unhappy camper most of the time. I am unhappy for a number of reasons, some of which are too personal to put out here (even on a secret blog), but some I can tie directly to my own insecurities. Those will be the ones I address here.
As some of you know, I hung around in webfiction for a while. Almost a decade, to be more exact. I got my start in 2004 and despite a few starts and stops, I was pretty confident with my place in the genre. Well, after I grew disillusioned with creativity in general in 2006, I took three years to regroup and returned to webfiction with ID in 2009. It was a totally different scene. Instead of the familiar poorly written soaps, we had an influx of...demons. Fairies. Swords. Dragons. All of this stuff that I'd never seen before and to be honest, had very little interest in. Still, I was willing to make the most of it and be more welcoming as a veteran of this scene and all. I made friends with a precious few of the new writers (the majority, including the "cool kids" - every school's got them - ignored me) and did my best to bridge the gap. It seemed the soap fans didn't dig the fantasy stuff, and the fantasy fans didn't dig the soaps. I took it upon myself to intermingle freely with both factions. After all, it couldn't hurt, right?
Well, it did. It hurt me, because no matter how hard I tried, I could never find the acceptance I craved in webfiction. I couldn't even get acknowledged half the damn time. The final straw came on Christmas Eve, when I discovered that one of the webfic elite had created a list of pretty much every imbecile with a WP blog and enough remedial grammar knowledge to throw a story together - seriously, her list was about 23 pages long...and I was not on it. My husband tried to calm me down by saying maybe it was an oversight. It was not a damn oversight, because she knows quite well who I am. I won't say how, because that would reveal who she was and I do not want to name names here but...suffice to say, she knew me. She just chose not to include me for whatever reasons and that hurt me.
So I packed it all up, decided to raise a huge, snot-encrusted middle finger to the genre and forged out independently. I kept ties with the few friends I'd made and severed everything else. I didn't need the hurt and the rejection, especially when I struggle with enough of that in my personal life. I know I'm better than that - and I know I'm better than some of the shit these "cool kids" like to laud on their blogs and Twitter. I don't need their validation anymore, and I don't give a shit what they think or say about me - or, what they do not say about me, which would be far more precise.
And you know what? I strongly resent all these new people (one of which had the NERVE to once allege that he invented webfiction in 2007, when I happen to know a number of people who could prove that wrong just by their sheer longevity) driving me out of the niche I'd been involved in for almost a decade - far longer than the majority of them. I hate it. I hate that they came in and took over like they did and that I no longer fit into the scene, despite my best efforts to adapt and fit in with them. That bothers the FUCK out of me, guys. But what the hell can you do about it? Clearly, I'm outnumbered and there's nothing I can do but just leave them to it. They can fucking have webfiction, since they "invented" it. I'll do my own thing...except, that's not proving to be very beneficial for me marketing wise.
I must preface this by saying, I was never pulling in any huge numbers, even when I was intermingling with them. They didn't give a shit what I was doing over here, nor did a lot of people. I mean, shit - I could probably have done a special episode where Jeff pulled an orb of evil from his pocket and unleashed a daemon (sic) upon the city and the animals all sprouted wings and flew a leaf-clad Marnie to safety and these people still wouldn't have given a fuck. It would have been right up their alley, but they still wouldn't have paid any attention to it. It's just how they are, and that's what hurt me so much but ANYway. I was not pulling in great numbers before, but I'm really not now. I've lost my niche. I hang out at a board with a lot of Sims writers now, and I'm a chick who's never played the Sims before in her life, so once again, I'm the odd guy out. I must say, though, that these ladies are far nicer than the cool kids of webfic, but still...it feels strange to be there sometimes because I am just not a part of that scene.
I feel homeless. I don't have a place that I belong. I don't have my target audience. I don't have much of anything going for me, except a damn good story and some strong characters...but what the hell good is that if nobody appreciates it besides myself? I have become so disillusioned lately, because I put such effort into every update and agonize over every single paragraph, but it's still universally ignored. This makes me wonder if it's worth all the focus I give it. It makes me wonder if I should even continue this because I don't honestly know if I have another year of hurtful rejection left in me.
I need a hug and I need some answers. What the hell am I supposed to do? This shit hurts me probably more than it would hurt a "normal" person...but my feelings are still very real. What can I do?
As some of you know, I hung around in webfiction for a while. Almost a decade, to be more exact. I got my start in 2004 and despite a few starts and stops, I was pretty confident with my place in the genre. Well, after I grew disillusioned with creativity in general in 2006, I took three years to regroup and returned to webfiction with ID in 2009. It was a totally different scene. Instead of the familiar poorly written soaps, we had an influx of...demons. Fairies. Swords. Dragons. All of this stuff that I'd never seen before and to be honest, had very little interest in. Still, I was willing to make the most of it and be more welcoming as a veteran of this scene and all. I made friends with a precious few of the new writers (the majority, including the "cool kids" - every school's got them - ignored me) and did my best to bridge the gap. It seemed the soap fans didn't dig the fantasy stuff, and the fantasy fans didn't dig the soaps. I took it upon myself to intermingle freely with both factions. After all, it couldn't hurt, right?
Well, it did. It hurt me, because no matter how hard I tried, I could never find the acceptance I craved in webfiction. I couldn't even get acknowledged half the damn time. The final straw came on Christmas Eve, when I discovered that one of the webfic elite had created a list of pretty much every imbecile with a WP blog and enough remedial grammar knowledge to throw a story together - seriously, her list was about 23 pages long...and I was not on it. My husband tried to calm me down by saying maybe it was an oversight. It was not a damn oversight, because she knows quite well who I am. I won't say how, because that would reveal who she was and I do not want to name names here but...suffice to say, she knew me. She just chose not to include me for whatever reasons and that hurt me.
So I packed it all up, decided to raise a huge, snot-encrusted middle finger to the genre and forged out independently. I kept ties with the few friends I'd made and severed everything else. I didn't need the hurt and the rejection, especially when I struggle with enough of that in my personal life. I know I'm better than that - and I know I'm better than some of the shit these "cool kids" like to laud on their blogs and Twitter. I don't need their validation anymore, and I don't give a shit what they think or say about me - or, what they do not say about me, which would be far more precise.
And you know what? I strongly resent all these new people (one of which had the NERVE to once allege that he invented webfiction in 2007, when I happen to know a number of people who could prove that wrong just by their sheer longevity) driving me out of the niche I'd been involved in for almost a decade - far longer than the majority of them. I hate it. I hate that they came in and took over like they did and that I no longer fit into the scene, despite my best efforts to adapt and fit in with them. That bothers the FUCK out of me, guys. But what the hell can you do about it? Clearly, I'm outnumbered and there's nothing I can do but just leave them to it. They can fucking have webfiction, since they "invented" it. I'll do my own thing...except, that's not proving to be very beneficial for me marketing wise.
I must preface this by saying, I was never pulling in any huge numbers, even when I was intermingling with them. They didn't give a shit what I was doing over here, nor did a lot of people. I mean, shit - I could probably have done a special episode where Jeff pulled an orb of evil from his pocket and unleashed a daemon (sic) upon the city and the animals all sprouted wings and flew a leaf-clad Marnie to safety and these people still wouldn't have given a fuck. It would have been right up their alley, but they still wouldn't have paid any attention to it. It's just how they are, and that's what hurt me so much but ANYway. I was not pulling in great numbers before, but I'm really not now. I've lost my niche. I hang out at a board with a lot of Sims writers now, and I'm a chick who's never played the Sims before in her life, so once again, I'm the odd guy out. I must say, though, that these ladies are far nicer than the cool kids of webfic, but still...it feels strange to be there sometimes because I am just not a part of that scene.
I feel homeless. I don't have a place that I belong. I don't have my target audience. I don't have much of anything going for me, except a damn good story and some strong characters...but what the hell good is that if nobody appreciates it besides myself? I have become so disillusioned lately, because I put such effort into every update and agonize over every single paragraph, but it's still universally ignored. This makes me wonder if it's worth all the focus I give it. It makes me wonder if I should even continue this because I don't honestly know if I have another year of hurtful rejection left in me.
I need a hug and I need some answers. What the hell am I supposed to do? This shit hurts me probably more than it would hurt a "normal" person...but my feelings are still very real. What can I do?
First post
And it's a song, because sometimes, music seems to speak far more than words can.
This is my journey. Hopefully, you'll be along with me for the ride.
This is my journey. Hopefully, you'll be along with me for the ride.
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