Nothing to say that hasn't been said

This morning I woke up to find I'd been banned from commenting on the journal of someone I'd hoped would one day become a friend. I send them a PM last night where I let my anger and bitterness get the better of me and I was lashing out at the first target I could find. I usually try to HALT (ask myself if I'm Hungry, Angry, Lonely and/or Tired) and WAIT (ask myself Why Am I Typing) before I interact with people online, precisely to avoid this sort of thing. I found out about the ban when I logged in to apologise. That was a nasty surprise. I left an anonymous comment to apologise that hasn't been answered yet and probably won't be. That's cool. I'm not owed forgiveness for being a jackass. That said, I do find it strange that this person friended me about four months ago and then commented on exactly four entries, twice because I could be useful. (For what it's worth, I've been comenting on their entries several times a week. I did in fact want this to work.) I don't know, I guess I think if you come to me, then you must think I'm even vaguely interesting or something? But apparently not. I wish we could have been friends, but apparently it wasn't to be. I think I feel a little relieved too, because I was tired of doing all the heavy lifting and trying to make this work despite the fact that I'm apparently worthless if I'm not being useful. (In the end, I'm saddened I didn't get to end this on my terms, but I think it's better for my mental health to have a clean break. I'm done with relationships where I'm the only one putting effort in.) Still, I wish them all the best.

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In other, you-have-probably-heard-this-by-now news, Sir Terry Pratchett died today (or, well, yesterday, I guess).

I don't get to claim his books were a part of my childhood -- I picked up a French edition of Reaper Man one day at the library because the cover was facing out, it looked intriguing and I had one spot left on my card to borrow a book -- bbut they were certainly a part of my life.

There's this bit in Reaper Man that's always stuck with me whenever I thought of that book. It's not "WHAT CAN THE HARVEST HOPE FOR, IF NOT FOR THE CARE OF THE REAPER MAN?", althogh that is of course excellent, but it's the single word Azrael speaks, the one that takes up a whole page.

YES

Pratchett's books were all bout that 'yes'. Yes to life, to being a good person because it's its own reward, yes to think everyone deserves nice things. Yes, in short, to living a good life.

And I think PTerry did that. (I had no idea he was so young.)

He'll be sorely missed.

(And now if you'll excuse me, I need to (re)read some Discworld.)