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Cyberbullying

Short story By: ChesterKheel
Other



This is another rant. It may not turn out well, but I need to write it out.


Submitted:Oct 28, 2012    Reads: 33    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


Is it true?

What they said? What they've always said.

Everyone always told me I was a terrible artist, all the ones I don't know. Only my friends ever said it was good.

My drawings were great. My face was sexy, and my sence of humore spot on. But I always wondered if they just did it to make me happy.

If they did it to keep from seeing me sad, or ruining a relationship. Usually I would just brush off the nast thoughts, thinking, "Screw it, I'm awesome!!"

But past events helped me think otherwise.

They helped me take a step back, look closer at my art and examine every detail.

I am an awful artist, and an awful person. I don't know how, and don't know why I ever thought my art was great. Or good in any way.

Yes, this is bad, I know. I've noticed, but only because I use the pad to my laptop and not a mous or tablet.

You know what?? Fuck that shit, I'm not falling into their games, I won't be toyed with like some kind of pawn or anything. I am NOT someone's little play thing, and I AM strong. I am a GREAT artist, and I know it. I always have, and always will. They think they can bring me down, they don't know what I have been through. Sure it pissed me off in the moment, but because I'm strong I have recovered. I won't be weak and fall to my knees in front of the computer crying because of you. I have grown stronger, and will NOT be thrown around anymore. I'm not a little puppet, and I won't be treated like gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe. I will instead be the foot ball, safe and secure in the players arm's, as I safely write and draw in my home, showing my stuff to only friends family and close people. Then I will be thrown far from across the yard, straight through the goal. Soaring high, I will post my art and other such on the internet. I will not be held back, just like the foot ball. As soon as it leaves his fingertips, it's gone with the wind.





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