This year has been nothing but a miserable wreck for me so far. I've been plagued with constant disappointment and letdown, heartbreak and heartache, depression and misery, and a dwindled desire to do just about anything.

There's little point to continue onward here anymore, as I've given all I have to give. I no longer care about drawing, about writing, or about doing things solely to please people. I really don't care anymore.

I have very few friends that are actually worth keeping around, and though I'll be sad to abandon them once again like I did earlier in the year, it's those friends that I feel are the ones that will actually understand. The rest of you will probably just bitch and moan.

I'm not an outwardly social person by nature. I have social inhibitions, yet somehow I'm socially magnetic, where people just talk to a boring person like me for whatever reason. I think most people enjoy talking to me because they like to hear themselves talk, since I don't open up about any of my feelings ever to those sorts and probably never will.

But in all reality, I see no point to sticking around FA or the community as a whole. I like the art, sure, porn, yeah, but I'm sick and tired of trying to walk forward without going anywhere. I used to feel there was a hope or a reason for me being here prior to this year. I felt a sense of accomplishment when I did this or did that, hoping that it would somehow lead me one step closer to my future. Now, though, I realize there's nowhere further I can go. There's nothing more I can do to justify investing any time in these stupid endeavors.

I don't want attention from people, nor do I need to prove anything to myself by drawing or writing, so ultimately it just boils down to demands from other people. "When's the next chapter of ______ coming?" "You haven't drawn anything in awhile" "Cool art bro!" "Will you read this story and let me know what you think?" "Can you write me ______ doing ______ to ______?"

What do I want? I don't give a rat's ass about any of that. I don't care about pleasing people anymore, because consistently, throughout my entire life, all I EVER seem to do is disappoint people. I will NEVER please everyone and every single additional person I try to please just leads me further and further down an inescapable tunnel.

What do I want? I used to think I wanted to be in love. That's why I wrote love stories. I used to have some sort of belief that, maybe, just maybe, I would find the likeminded needle in a haystack here, defying the impossible odds and having someone in my life who would accept me for who I am rather than just the mask I wear in reality. I did find that someone. And I even failed that. When given another chance at love after such a long time, I was met on the other side of the stream, hurting her in very much the same way I was hurt before, yet knowing it would still lead to less pain in the long run.

I've proven I'm nothing more than a weak minded, timid, hyposensitive little boy. There's nothing more I can accomplish here to further my life at all. Nothing.

I don't want love anymore. The very idea repulses me, and not in that forced denial sort of way, but in a truly detached way. It scares me too much, it angers and infuriates me beyond belief, and there are just so many aspects of it that I plain and simply don't care for anymore.

This is what I've grown into: a cold, bitter, isolated individual. For those of you who only met you this year, I apologize, as you've missed out on seeing a Zeph that once knew how to smile, once held hope and love in his heart, and once actually accomplished things. And for those of you who remember this Zeph, I apologize, because honestly I barely remember him and see no hopes of him ever returning.

Hope. Hope. There's a word that's only grown into as much of a stinging torment as love. Why anyone carries hope for anything these days is beyond me. I used to keep holding on, keeping fighting for what I wanted, hoping that by not giving up, I would somehow gain what I wanted. That's stupid. Utterly stupid. Hope is nothing more than an irrational longing for an outcome that will never be. I've given up on it altogether, because every single time I've had hope for the past several months, it was always let down and just led me into even more of a depressed state. Even just today, when I had a little tiny shred of hope for something good to happen, naturally, because it's me, it fell apart. That's my life.

If you actually want to get by in life, putting hope in anything is the wrong way to go. Absolutely. Instead, actually take fucking action and do something about it. Pretend that hope and luck don't exist. Just forget about them. Whatever you want to accomplish, just go fucking do it, don't sit on your ass hoping to win the lottery or hoping for love to fall into you lap if that's what you're looking for. Don't hope to catch that train; run to catch it and accept it may not be there for you, but due to your own fault. Hope sucks. Faith, belief, and every other similar idea is just a poison to me. If you still have these things, hey, whatever, maybe they don't let you down as often as they let me down, but to me, they truly are a poison, and I'm tired of letting them sap me of everything I am.

What do I want? I've still to answer this question. I don't even know anymore. I used to think I knew what I wanted, but now I just want to go away. I just want to forget about everything and everyone. I want to be nothing more than just a memory to you people. I want to try live my own life and forget about these foolish feelings or halfhearted associates. I want the people who actually cared to focus their emotions elsewhere and for the people who never cared at all to just find some other somebody to prattle on to. I want to find something I care about and can involve myself in, but not writing, drawing, or anything to do with Pokemon or furries or all that other crap.

I stuck around for so long because I used to think I had a purpose, that there was some reason for me to be here. This year, I started realizing that, perhaps, I didn't really have a purpose or reason to be here anymore. It was gone. Now, though, I'm just looking at it from a different perspective. I've already completed my purpose. Whatever it was, it's done, final, everlasting. If I made an impact on your life, great, that was my purpose for being here, I've already completed that part of it. If I cheered you up in your time of need, alright, maybe that was what I was supposed to do. If I saved your life, I'm glad, but what's done is done and I can't continue being a hero for the rest of my life.

Whatever the case, my reason for being here is over, my impact will stay to those I've touched. I'll leave my works up, because I hate the true ragequitters that delete everything just to piss people off. But really, I'm done for good. I made sure I gave two weeks or so to think this all through, to get away from you people, and, unlike last time, to be sure I could give some form of finality to it all. Like I said earlier, I'm not really looking for attention like most ragequitters -- I would have been happier just fading away like I did a couple of months back, but I just wanted to give some level of finality this time around to those who I pissed off when I went absent for months on end. If I do ever return, it'll be from scratch, under a different name, under a different time, as a name has never been as important to me as the person behind it all. Hopefully if this does happen, you'll never even know, because I hate dwelling on things.

I wish I could say it was a good ride altogether; some of the happiest moments of my life were spent on here, but I've also gone through more of my darkest days than any other time before. I have to get healthier again and move on from this. Call me selfish, sure, but you're the selfish one if you want to hold me back against my well. You're the selfish one if you want to selfishly keep me from what I want to do for your own benefit. You're the selfish one if you can't understand I'm done and want to go home.

And just like every story has a beginning, each story also has an end, and keeping to the tradition of my works, it looks like my ending is somewhere right in the middle, left unfinished and mired in sadness.

Farewell.