.:.XXMFLuderXX's Slash Page.:.

Did I ever tell any of you that I saw that?
I liked it. Oh, yeah. Me likey a lot.
Nick's part is small but big, you know? He's important even if he isn't in it a lot.
Oh...by the way...

HE HAS A SEX SCENE!!! HA HA HA HA HA!!!!
*dies*

**Please Note: Alex Krycek, in my story, is older then Fox Mulder**

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

A pause.

"Sin of the flesh or sin of the conscience?"

There was a short pause and an unsure stutter, "Both, Father."

"What is it you wish to confess, my child?"

There was another pause – longer this time.

"I’ve fallen in love with another man."

Father Krycek’s back wet ridged.

That voice.

That voice sounded so familiar, but how did he know it? The Priest’s heart started a hard, heavy thumping.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

"H-Homosexuality," Father Krycek started, "is a sin."

"I know. I know, Father. But, I won’t ever be complete without him. No matter how hard I try – no matter how many songs I sing or prayers I chant."

Filling his lungs with air in a shaky breath, Father Krycek swallowed, "Lucifer often puts temptations on Earth. It is our job, as God’s children, to see through the lies."

"I know, Father…I know. But, I’d…I’d go through Hell for him. I would. And he’s not a, a lure from Lucifer. I know it -- in my heart. The moment I saw him dancing, I knew."

Feeling his throat close, Father Krycek squeaked out, "Dancing?"

Thump-thump.

Thump-thump.

Thump-thump.

"Yes," the voice said, "dancing. I was…I was at a club – just to help out some friends – and I sat down at the bar. And…I looked up and saw him. And I knew."

Was this a joke? Did someone know? Was someone mocking him? Leaning close to the delicate grate that separated them, the Priest whispered,

"Who are you?"

"You know who I am, Father." The voice merely answered.

Inhaling nervously, Father Krycek felt hot. He felt the acids in his stomach begin to build up. He felt sick.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing, Father," came the innocent voice. "I only want to confess my sins."

"Enough!" hissed the Priest, his patience almost gone. He needed to try and maintain some dignity in this blackmail. "Just tell me what you want, alright? Then go."

"Father, I do not want anything – I just need to clear my conscience."

With no more fortitude, the Priest slid open the grate between him and his blackmailer. He froze at the man on the older side. A bead of sweat dropped off his forehead, trailing its path down his face. He swallowed looking at the person who stared back at him – himself.

"Hi," his double whispered, obviously not as shocked as the Priest.

The steady thumping in his chest and ears suddenly got too loud, too fast.

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump.

Then suddenly stopped.

With an uneasy rocking for a second, Father Krycek’s face collided with the confessional’s walls.

XxX

Father Krycek sat bolt-straight in bed, choking on the air he inhaled a little too quickly.

Finally calming himself a bit, he got in one gush of air before suddenly whipping his face to the side of his bed, vomiting violently. Feeling his body retch, he gripped his stomach. The force of his nausea causing his eyes to tear. He spit out the last of his digested food and wiped his mouth on his bare arm, not caring about it. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to collect himself again. Gagging once, then twice, he waited for another round of sickness. After a few minutes of nothing, he stood on shaky legs and got out of bed. It was only 1 o’clock – he’d only gotten to sleep 2 hours ago. He spent the remainder of the night, cleaning up his sickness and going over his dream. It was straight forward – he knew what it meant. But it still sucked.

XxX

That morning, around 10, the Father woke. He’s gotten to sleep at 6. It had taken him 3 hours to clean up his vomit thoroughly and put more perfumes on the spot then a cheap whore wears on a Saturday night. Then he’d spent 2 more hours thinking about his dream…and Fox Mulder.

Once he’d gotten out of bed and showered, the coffee was done. Padding gently out to the kitchen, he poured himself a cup and sipped it slowly – his eyes examining the calendar on the wall. Walking over to it, he put an X over another one of the boxes.

6 months.

He hadn’t seen Fox Mulder or gone to the club for 6 whole months. But, that didn’t stop him for thinking about Fox every night, day dreaming about him every morning.

And now this dream…How much more was he supposed to suffer?

Father Krycek looked at the calendar one more time before going to his bedroom to get dressed.

XxX

He spent the remainder of the day, sitting in his house watching people mow their lawns.

Everybody mows their lawns on Saturday. He usually did, too. But, for some reason he just didn’t feel up to it today. He felt tired and still sick from earlier. No matter how hard he seemed to try, he couldn’t pry himself up off his chair.

It was his favorite chair. Leather and worn down – a bit like him. He’d gotten it the first day he left for college; that and enough microwavable noodles for 3 years.

If he still leaned in close, he could smell the old, cheap cologne he used to wear. Every night he’d put on that cologne and venture out. He already knew he was planning on becoming part of the Priesthood so, it’s not like he ever had sex. But, it was still nice to get some attention from the ladies.

People seemed to think that since he was a Priest, he didn’t get an education. He went to college and he did very well; majoring in Religious Studies.

Burying his face in the leather quickly, he inhaled again. Why was this happening to him?

He had been a faithful servant to God. Father Krycek was the morals of this town – keeping everyone and everything together. If only those people knew what was going on inside his head right now. He would no longer be their voice of God.

Their voice of judgment.

Their voice of reason.

Their voice is salvation.

He would be a monster.

An obsesser of flesh.

A bringer of evil and sin.

A fake. A fraud.

A faggot.

The thought made him feel ill again. Any moment he was bound to vomit again. Hurrying quickly into the bathroom, he bowed down next to the toilet. Gagging silently every few moments or so. Taking a few deep breaths, he sat back on his haunches.

When given too much stress, your mind turns blank. Your body ups the endorphins and you spend a little time in bliss. Father Krycek had finally reached that stage but, suddenly, it was broken by a loud pounding. Listening closely, he tried to figure out what it was.

Only one thing could make that sound,

One person.

Marcia Diaz.

"Faaaather Krycek!" she screeched, "Father Krycek!! Open the door! Please!"

Standing slowly, as if tired, Father Krycek made his way to the door. Opening it gradually, he sighed. Anything he had planned to say was cut off when Marcia shoved in past him. Waving a paper of some sort in her hand like a maniac,

"Look! Look at this Father! How could Robert do this to our family!? How!?"

Too tired to even pretend to care, Father Krycek took the paper from Marcia as she shoved it into his chest.

It was a letter. Addressed to Robert.

"I found that," she huffed, "in Robert’s room."

Not only had Marcia done something immoral, she’d also broken the law. But, Father Krycek was too tired to give a damn. Taking the letter out of the, already torn open, envelope, he skimmed it quickly.

It was a party invitation. Someone was having a birthday thrown for them at the club. Father Krycek looked at Marcia with tired eyes,

"Marcia, you can’t stop Robert from going to a party with some of his friends – straight or not."

Clenching her jaw, her hands squeezed her hips; so tightly that her fingers were turning white (which almost made Father Krycek laugh because her face was as red as a beet).

"Look who it’s for," she snarled.

Skimming the invitation again he found the name. His stomach began to twist again.

"Fox Mulder…" he said under his breath.

"Fox Mulder," Marcia repeated. She didn’t simply say his name, she spit it.

Looking up at her, Father Krycek remained silent. Marcia began to pace though, in an angry rant.

"I mean, he’s, like, the biggest…biggest harlot! And Robert is being invited to his party!? What am I suppose to think? You know, Father, Fox Mulder was probably the one who got Robert into this whole gay-thing to begin with. He probably seduced my poor brother. I mean…My God. Fox Mulder!"

"How do you know Fox Mulder?" Father Krycek asked sharply.

Snorting, Marcia shook her head, "Fox Mulder: biggest whore ever. He is destined to sit at Satan’s side and rot in Hell forever."

Losing patience with her words, he shouted, "How do you know Fox Mulder, Marcia!?"

Marcia stopped speaking and stared at the priest. She blinked, shocked at his outburst.

The father eventually deflated, sighing angrily, trying to control his anger, "I’m sorry, Marcia. But, now, will you tell me how you know Fox Mulder?"

Crossing her arms, she huffed, "He’s Spender’s kid. Didn’t you know that?"

"Spender’s son?" Father Krycek asked, confused.

Marcia rolled her eyes. She moved across the room, snatching the letter back from him. Taking a seat on his chair, she crossed her legs, looking up at the ceiling. She spoke slowly, as if talking to a child. The Priest always found it humorous. She, being the most religious one in their little town, was the only one who would give the only Priest an attitude. And she was good at it – must have been her Spanish blood.

"Teena Mulder’s first kid was Fox Mulder. Then Bill Mulder, his dad, died and she married Mr. Spender. Teena Mulder became Teena Spender. Fox, like, totally refused to accept him and, by the time he was 16, he was out and had moved to the city; and, apparently, started seducing the innocent ones into his sick little games. God only knows what kind of crap he’s into."

Father Krycek took a seat on the sofa. How had he not known this?

Marcia shrugged, "I don’t know. They use to go to church all the time. I, sorta’, use to have a crush on Fox. Before he turned into a freak of nature."

Had he said that out loud?

Marcia put her feet up on the ottoman, giving another shrug, "I just don’t know what to do, Father. I’ve tried everything to keep Bobby away and he still goes back. YOU’VE tried everything. Mother’s tried everything. Dad, too. Nothing is working."

"When is the party, Marcia?" Father Krycek asked slowly.

Looking over at the clock, she clenched her jaw, "Like…20 minutes. I KNOW that is where Robert went. He won’t get in though."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because," Marcia smiled, shaking the piece of paper, "It’s ‘Invitation Only’ and I’ve got his invitation."

Watching Marcia shake that piece of white paper back and forth was like a starving man watching as somebody dangled a portion of supple bread in front of his face. He needed that invitation. Every atom, molecule and particle ached for that piece of paper.

Somehow, Father Krycek felt like he was a Freshman in High School again – desperately yearning for an invite to Phoebe Greene’s party – Phoebe Greene being the most popular senior at the time. But that was only because of her accent and the fact that she would fuck pretty much anybody. Father Krycek, being only 15 at the time, wasn’t allowed to go. His parents were always strong Catholics and they knew the reputation of Phoebe Greene. Father Krycek had given up all hope on going to that party. One: because his parents would never et him go. And two: He would never get an invite. He was a Freshman. And that was a senior bash. A few days before the party, he was standing by his locker when he felt an unfamiliar tap on his shoulder. Turning quickly, he looked into the brown eyes of one Phoebe Greene. She tossed her head to the side, trying to move some of her bangs out of her face. She looked back at him, her hand slipping into the tacky purse she kept around her shoulder. Pulling out a red invitation, her face remained straight. She was too cool for emotions. She did let a small smile turn up the corner of her lips as she slipped the red paper into his front pocket. Standing frozen in a mix of awe and terror, Father Krycek hadn’t even noticed the jock that had walked up behind Phoebe.

"You’re inviting him?" the jock sneered, almost disappointed, "You know, Pheebs, he’s a Freshman."

"I know," Phoebe spoke. She reached out towards Father Krycek. She took his chin in her hand, gripping it tightly, still talking to the jock. "But, he’s so cute. He should come."

With that, she giggled and smacked Father Krycek’s cheek in an affectionate way. When they finally walked away, Father Krycek collapsed against his lockers – unable to keep himself standing. He couldn’t believe it. Even though, Father Krycek knew that it was a bad idea to go to that party – the possibility to hang out with all the seniors had proved too much. So, he had gone: drank, smoked pot, and lost his virginity to Phoebe Greene. And even though he’d gotten grounded, he’d never trade that experience for anything.

"Helllllllo? Earth to Father Krycek!" Marcia shouted over Father Krycek’s memory.

He blinked suddenly, shaking his head, "What?"

Marcia shook the paper again, "Well? What do we do about this? Come on, Father, help me."

Striking like a cobra, Father Krycek snatched the invitation from her hand. Marcia jumped back from the attack. Her brown eyes wide. Father Krycek held it close to his chest. "I’ll take care of it," he said, quickly. Calming after a second, he sighed, "I’ll take care of it, Marcia. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep? If Robert asks...I’m giving you permission to deny everything. You don’t know about it, okay?"

Marcia Diaz grinned, her face lighting up, "Oh, Father...that’s the best advice you’ve ever given me. Yes, Father. I won’t let you down."

She then hurried out, a bounce in her step. Father Krycek stared at the slip of paper. Oh, how he wanted this. This...this meant more to him then anything. Cradling it in his hands, he turned, walking down to his bedroom. His eyes remained on the invitation. Catching a look at himself in the mirror, he was briefly reminded of he creature in Tolken’s Lord of the Rings. His whole body and soul was consumed by this paper. Dropping it quickly, he looked down at it.

Was he sure he wanted to do this? This was...a big step. A huge one.

"Fuck that," he said to no one. Excitement obvious in his voice. He wasn’t sure whether that was because he was going or because, for the first time since becoming a Priest, he was using the word "Fuck." Scooping up the paper, he threw open his wardrobe. He was going to look good tonight.

XxX

"Sorry, buddy," the bouncer said, putting a hand on Father Krycek’s chest, "Private party here tonight. No one without an invitation."

Between his index and middle finger, Father Krycek flipped up the invitation. The bouncer blinked, surprised. Taking it, he looked at the paper, nodding.

"Alright. You’re almost 2 hours late."

"I know." The Priest growled, pushing past the bouncer into the club. And to his surprise, it looked...like just another night. A small crowd, he supposed, for a club. 60-70 people, maybe. Mostly men. He spotted a couple of women but, he wasn’t sure if they were actually women or men dressed like women. All of them dancing. A couple drinking at the bar. And no Fox Mulder. Father Krycek moved through the crowd of bodies. He stopped at the bar, resting against it.

"Hey! Oh, my God!"

The Father turned sharply, seeing Derek serving drinks to a couple at the end of the bar. He was looking at him, smiling. Finishing with the drinks, he moved over to the Priest,

"Hey, wow. I didn’t know you got invited to this thing. It’s good to see you. Where you been? Fox has been asking about you, you know," Derek said slyly. The Priest put his elbows on the bar, looking into the crowd. His face full of disinterest.

"Has he now?"

Derek smiled, nodding, "Oh, yeah. Asks me every time he comes if I’ve seen you. Feel bad for having to tell him ‘no’ all the time."

Derek looked Father Krycek up and down. He swallowed slightly. His eyes took in the black slacks, the crisp white shirt and the black jacket. The first two buttons of his shirt were undone. And his hair was neat and reminded Derek of James Bond.

Father Krycek turned his head to look at Derek. He smirked, "He’s a big boy. He’ll live."

With that, he gave the very surprised Derek a wink and walked off into the crowd again. Oh, yeah. Tonight he was cool. Trying to get around the dancing bodies, Father Krycek suddenly felt himself pulled into a kiss. And something being pushed between his lips. The guy pushed Father Krycek back. His tongue held onto whatever was in his mouth. Small and round. Running into the man behind him, Father Krycek instinctively swallowed. Downing the pill.

"Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot." his mind chanted. What the hell was that?

Suddenly the crowd began to hoot and applaud. Father Krycek looked up, looking around. Through the crowd, he could see Fox Mulder had just appeared through the curtain behind the bar. Dressed in a black turtleneck, the sleeves of which were pushed up his forearms, and faded blue jeans, he smiled, waving excited at everyone. His hair was combed back, with a couple of stubborn locks falling infront of his eyes. Which were, with the lighting in the bar, the most beautiful mix of green, blue and brown the priest had ever seen. His skin looked almost golden. The crowd clapped wildly, whistling and shouting."Gosh,"

Fox moved around to the front of the bar, occasionally kissing people on the cheek as he did so. He seemed to know everyone pretty well. He took a seat on top of the bar, crossing his legs. He reminded Father Krycek of Aubrey Hepburn or one of those old actresses. It made him smile. The music was turned down to background music and everyone kept quiet. With the exception of an occasional hoot or holler. Fox bit his bottom lip playfully, looking around at everyone.

"Well?" He finally spoke, "Where are my presents, bitches?"

Fox grinned widely, taking the sting off his words. Even Father Krycek laughed. He wasn’t sure if that was because it was really funny or whatever he had swallowed was taking affect. Derek patted Fox on the ass, smiling,

"Alright, birthday boy, how do you want to do this? You wanna’ get everyone to bring them up or just take a few and open the rest at home?"

Fox nibbled his bottom lip again and Father Krycek felt all the blood rushing to his cock. Fox shrugged, "Well, I suppose I’ll open a couple then get Don to fill his truck with the rest and bring them to my house."

And so, slowly but surely, presents began to be brought up to Fox. He crossed his legs, Indian style, on the bar. Ripping into the presents like a child on Christmas. As it happened, Father Krycek had slowly began to make his way over to the bar, until he was leaning against it. Off to the side, making sure to stay out of the direct sight of Fox. The presents were nice. Obviously thought out. These people had taken their time to select them. The Priest wondered if the sex toys had been as thought out as the others. For almost the entire gift opening, Father Krycek remained unnoticed. Whatever he had swallowed was slowly taking affect as he watched Fox Mulder. He body relaxed. He’d started to sweat a bit – just enough to look shiny. His neat hair had started to fall a bit. Strands falling in front of his face, always coming back, no matter how many times he pushed them away. His eyes started to drift close. Until catcalls started up. The crowd laughing and clapping. Fox was heard over it,

"Well, looks like I’ve got my plans for the rest of the night."

Father Krycek opened his eyes to see Fox Mulder holding a rather impressive dildo. He gave it a shake, laughing with the crowd. Father Krycek let out a loud snort, unable to help himself. It caught the attention of the people in the front and Fox Mulder. Fox turned to look at the source of the noise, stiffening almost immediately. Fox looked at Father Krycek for what seemed like forever. The smile on his face dropping. He took a deep, turning back to the crowd. He nodded slowly, licking his lips. Putting the sex toy down at his side.

"I think...that’s enough for now. Maybe I’ll open some more later. Thanks, fellas."

Fox hopped down from the bar table, Everyone gave a moment to clap and then, as the music was turned up, they returned to their positions from before. Father Krycek turned, resting his elbows on the bar table. Somehow, during all this, the room had gotten...wavy. Father Krycek couldn’t explain it – all he knew was that he felt great. Except his mouth was dry. Slapping his tongue against the roof of his mouth, he felt that sticky residue he got when dehydrated. His hand smacked the bar lightly, looking for Derek. Father Krycek saw the back of the bartender’s head. But, he soon noticed that Derek was talking animatedly with Fox. Fox seemed upset about something. Father Krycek wasn’t sure what but all he knew was Derek was obviously trying to calm him and reassure him that everything was okay. A flash of paranoia hit the Priest and he wondered if Fox was upset that he had crashed his party. Maybe Fox didn’t want him here. Maybe he should leave. His thought were interrupted by Peter, who seemed to appear out of no where.

"You need something?"

Father Krycek looked up at the man quickly, almost jumping. He swallowed the dust in his throat,

"Water. As much water as you can get me..."

Peter smiled, knowingly. He went to th small fridge, pulling out two bottles of water, placing them in front of the Priest. Father Krycek immediately opened one, swallowing down almost half the bottle. He felt a small dribble run out his mouth and down his chin but he didn’t care. Just then he felt a pair of eyes on him. He glanced over to see Fox watching him. Father Krycek slowly brought the bottle from his lips, looking back at Fox intently. He didn’t take his eyes off Fox’s as he brought a hand up to wipe at the drop of water. They remained like that until Fox took a step back. He turned quickly, walking through a crowd of people the EXIT door. Father Krycek sighed, watching the door silently. He instantly felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight as a man followed behind Fox. He wasn’t sure if it was the drug or him but something suddenly didn’t feel right. As if almost by their own accord, he feet began to move towards the door. He stepped out into the alley. Seeing Fox and the man right away. The man had Fox by the forearm. Fox seemed distressed...angry. He seemed angry.

Fox ripped his arm out of the man’s grasp, "Get the fuck away from me, Donnie!"

Okay. He was definitely mad.

The man know identified as "Donnie" reached out for Fox again. He was tall. Almost as tall as the Priest. Donnie was certainly the brooding type. He’d probably be more attractive if he wasn’t so...sulky.

"Hey!"

Fox and Donnie looked over at the Priest. Both surprised. Father Krycek was surprised as well.

Had he shouted that? Oh, God. What was he doing!?

Father Krycek walked over to them, grabbing Donnie by the front of his shirt. He pushed him away,

"The man asked you to leave him alone. Get the fuck out of here.:"

Donnie stumbled back, caught off balance. He straightened out again, looking at Father Krycek, "This doesn’t concern you."

The reasonable part of Father Krycek was scared shitless. But the part influenced by the drug was willing to take this sonofabitch down. As Donnie advanced, Father Krycek shoved his back from Fox and himself. He advanced on Donnie, grabbing him,

"Listen you horse’s ass, I’m going to say this again: Get the fuck out of here. Or I swear, I will castrate you."

Once he released Donnie, the man stood, giving Fox a last look and walked out of the alley. Father Krycek sighed, fixing his shirt. When he turned, Fox was staring at him in what could only be described as awe. Fox looked down at his feet for a moment, regaining himself. He looked up, smiling slightly,

"Thank you."

Father Krycek shook his head, pushing back his hair, "Don’t mention it. Who was that jack-off?"

Fox crossed his arms, seemingly cold. He rubbed his arms, sighing, "Donnie Phaster. Just an old boyfriend...I thought him and I were over this whole ‘get back together’ thing. Obviously he’s not."

"I thought Fox Mulder wasn’t a one-man type of guy?" Father Krycek asked, looking at him.

Fox tilted his head, smiling, "Only if the guy is worth it." There was a pause before he asked, "How did you know my name?"

With a laugh, Father Krycek raied an eyebrow, "You think I’d be here if I didn’t even know your name?"

"That’s a good point," Fox laughed. Letting his laughter die down to a smile, he said, "On;y a guy like you could crash and ‘Invite Only’ party."

"A guy like me?" Father Krycek asked.

Fox began to walk over to him slowly, he stopped in front of Father Krycek. Their bodies almost touching. Fox looked up at him, smiling slightly, "Yeah...Suave, smooth, intelligent, mysterious."

Father Krycek looked down at Fox, smiling fully, "You think I’m all those things, huh?"

Fox smiled and nodded, "I do."

They stayed silent for a moment, just looking at each other. Fox eventually tilted his head, "So," he started, "What’d you get me for a birthday present?"

Father Krycek tossed his head back, laughing. He looked back at the smiling Fox Mulder, "I don’t know. I’m not sure what could top that...very, very impressive toy from before."

"Oh," Fox said, "I know something."

And then he grinned.

XxX

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Father Krycek groaned, reaching over to slap the alarm clock off. He licked his lips, keeping his eyes securely closed. He shifted in the silk sheets, pulling the warm body closer to his.

Silk sheets? He didn’t own silk sheets.

Warm body? Warm body!?

Father Krycek’s eyes snapped open suddenly. He breathed deeply, looking next to him, at the body his arm securely held to his chest. Swallowing nervously, he stared down at him. Fox turned his head, rubbing his nose gently into Father Krycek’s side. He looked up slowly, his dazed eyes opening slightly. He smiled,

"‘orning."

As Fox worked on waking himself up a bit more, Father Krycek just stared at him. Fox leaned up as best he could in his tired state, kissing Father Krycek gently. He smiled, wrinkling his nose playfully,

"Happy birthday to me."

With that, he laid his head back down on Father Krycek’s chest, curling himself in close.

Father Krycek sat frozen. Then, breaking out of it, he mouthed silently to himself, "What the Hell happened last night?"

Okay, well, hi.
I'm back. With...a new photo.
It's not the greatest thing in the world but it's the best thing I've ever done.
I hope you all like it.

Oh, PS, I AM Lee Holloway. So, don't worry. I didn't, like, steal this or anything.
I am changing my, um, fandom name to Lee Holloway. So, if you see that around...it's me. 

 

*Keep in mind -- this is meant for EVERYONE. Not JUST certain groups of people. X-Files, Dexter, etc*


Mine, mine, mine.  Doesn't this make anyone else sick? That's all I see now. Everything is mine. This is mine. That is mine. Mine, mine, mine. God for bid people should just fucking share anymore? You know, all this internet bullshit -- Like, dude, don't put your shit on the internet if you don't want someone else to use it. It's all free-fucking-range folks. And I know, believe me, I know I've had problems with this in the past. I'm not fucking stupid. But, it's just...I couldn't deal with it then and I can't now. Everyone...everyone are like kindergartners. 
Mine, mine, mine. 
I made this. 
You can't use it. 
I want credit.

SHUT UP!!!

I'm not an artist. I'm not a brilliant poet. I'm not a ground-breaking writer. But, fuck, when I post something here or on myspace or on Youtube -- I'm sending my work out into the world. For everyone. Call me a Hippie. Fine. Whatever. But, I just...I can't do it anymore. If anyone gave me grief about anything -- I took it down. Threw it away. Not because I was respecting your wishes but because I JUST DON'T WANT TO BE FUCKING HASSLED.

I'm so sick of all it. On myspace, in some fan club, I watched a video of Nick Lea. All these people left comments about how wonderful he was and about his songs and stuff. And someone at the end...didn't even write a review. Just was like, "This is my video..I'd like credit, okay?" 

WHAT THE FUCK?

You put it on youtube!!!!! Do you know how many people have that video now? Not everyone will give you credit. If that's a problem then that it down. Why put it up if you won't even share? Same with pictures, collages, icons, manipulations. Whatever. It doesn't matter. The internet is for sharing. Once you put your artwork up...I got a newS flash for you all...Come closer....Closer...

IT'S EVERYONE'S NOW!!! EVERYONE HAS A RIGHT TO IT!!

I'm so sick and tired of it all. I'm 15 and I share better then most of you. If you don't like what I have to say then delete me from your list...Whatever. I couldn't care less at this point. I'm so tired of the selfishness of people.
It makes me sick and makes me feel dirty.

I hate...Do you hear me? I HaTe my f*cking fanfiction site!!!

With
                everything
                             I Am!!!

If it was alive, I would kill it slowly and painfully!!! 
It's ugly and stupid and the fanfiction sucks!!

I HATE IT!!!

I only chose Tripod.com because I'm poor and need something free.

If you know ANY website I can use (it HAS to be free!!)...
PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE tell me!!!!

PLEASE!!!