It's kind of pointless to be angry at strangers, because you don't know who they are. You don't know what kind of battles they're going through, and maybe their battles with other things just overshadow yours' [although being angry because strangers are running their mouths is a whole different thing].
So, it's kind of impossible for me to be angry with the person who didn't like any of my suggestions on the poll for a new name, including A Wallflower's Words [despite that, I was kind of upset, so I deleted the poll. I guess it's closed]. I'm not angry, I'd just like to know what I'm "doing wrong." Think of it as constructive criticism. So, whoever you are, just tell me what you think, and I'd love to take it into consideration the next time I pick a name.
I've also noticed before that anything about anonymous comments [coughcoughformspringcoughcough], people don't use it as nicely as they could. Anonymity brings out the worst in people, but they really don't understand that it can be used in a positive way. Knowing someone, somewhere, thinks something good about you is just refreshing, and the mystery of who [or who all] feel that way is exciting. It just feels better.
I don't know, I guess I'm one of those losers that actually uses anonymity to make people feel better about themselves.
At the same time, it kind of reminded me all over again that I don't write specifically to please any one person [although praise has a pretty good feel to it :D]. You've gotta deal with the good, the bad, and the worse, when you do/write something.
I'm considering changing my title, still, to The Cloud-Wanderer sometime soon. If you've never heard of the poem "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud," by William Wordsworth, it's a masterpiece. Here you go:
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
and twinkle on the Milky Way
They stretched in never-ending line
along the margin of the bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
in such a jocund company:
I gazed- and gazed- but little thought
what wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
[There's several versions of it, but this one is the "original"- the others only have some cosmetic changes.] :D
I don't know- it just has potential. :D This change of title will probably be enacted soon, sometime after I can get my dumb computer to copy and paste. If you don't like it, either tell me in a reasonable, mature way [I guess putting that answer on there was stupid on my part, even though I meant it sarcastically..], or don't follow me. It's simple as that.