With that said, I attack.
I didn't mean to guilt trip so much as complain. It's not about the comments, it's about the sentiment. Why do I have 55 people calling me their friend if I can't reach out to them and get even a "hey, man, tough times" or an "i feel j00r pane, d00d." I realize people are busy and stuff, but out of all those people there has to be more than two people who have enough spare minutes to drop a few words of consolation. But if you don't mean it, don't comment; I'd rather have that. I mean, it's not like some of you weren't online talking to people last night.
AND ALL I DO IS BITCH AND COMPLAIN.
It's really not your fault, folks. It's my own private misery and I have to purge it. I choose to do so in journal form. But your little comments light up my heart (and my inbox) and make me feel warm and squishy. I dunno; I comment all the time in people's journals, sometimes randomly, but just to say hi. Maybe that's annoying. Let me know if I should stop.
I don't like this entry because it is unfairly demanding. "Ugh, whose turn is it to give Dark a damn comment this time?" But this is how I feel, and if that makes me a bad person, I WANT TO KNOW.
And no, I'm not just a comment whore. Feel free to ICQ, AIM or e-mail me.