A note to my readers.
A quickly put together note to my readers, regular and… irregular, I have a lot I want to say, so bear with me.
Firstly, I’d like to apologise for my use and misuse of the forum. I’ve been erratic and often rude, and I’m sorry. For those who don’t know, I’m currently struggling to fight off a depressive episode. I am currently in college out-of-term and I am quite, quite alone. The friends I was expecting to hang around with have had to go home, struggling with their own demons. My other internet hang-outs have been getting quiet, the friendly communities I’ve relied upon in times of loneliness are no longer there, so I’ve been using the Triond forum for amusement and the venting of frustrations far more than I ever intended.
I’ve been using Triond for two years now. When I first saw that Triond had added a forum, I didn’t like the idea. I used to rather like the quiet anonymity of place, relying simply on my work to get a small sum to fritter on jewellery. But, out of curiosity I had a look. I commented on a few threads, I discovered Stumble Upon, nothing drastic. But suddenly I found myself with more friends, more regular views, my earnings tripled, I was getting more comments, I was even finding more writers whose work I really enjoyed. I started visiting far more often, even getting involved in arguments, which is normally not my style at all. Now I find myself addicted to it in the same way I get with a lot of websites, especially as those other sites aren’t offering me much in at the moment.
In the quest for more views, and spurred on by kind comments and a need for stress-relief, I started posting more often than before. I always have a lot of ideas buzzing around in my head, and when something offers a release for them I can become obsessed with it. I have a list of articles and stories yet to write that currently runs to seven pages of my notebook. Most of these I worked hard on, through February especially. The end of February and the beginning of March brought a lot of stresses: the deadline for my dissertation looming over me like a numeric sword of Damocles, the death of a boy in college, then the death of a friend and the impact that had on my little clique at college. I stopped having the time to research articles and found myself whipping through the occasional poem. Those occasional poems became almost daily pieces. A few lines would flutter in my head for an hour or so, and then I’d jot them down, fill in the gaps and post them. I rarely spent more than an hour on any of them, but I felt the need to post them to force myself to stop and do something more productive. No one complained, so I just kept going.
Oh, dear thing. No worries here! You would have to work so much harder than that to offend me! I’m a school teacher you know 
It does get better after college, never fear, and everything you write is a learning experience, if nothing else then to show you what you don’t want to write! And I like your crap, thank you very much. It is often entertaining.
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