It would appear that, as of becoming a critic, my approach towards Bionicle fanfiction had changed tremendously.

That, and the discovery of non-Bionicle fanfiction and more accurately, Transformers fanfiction.

It was a nasty blow to my conscience, that sent me reeling hours even after the immediate concussion.

It got worse when I ran over my drafts for my fanfictions.

They all looked like a toddler's scribbling, paling in the light of the newfound knowledge I had acquired. They look like they would see better days in a virtual trashcan.

I should not whittle about it. It is good news, great news in fact, if I learnt more about fanfiction writing and what to expect of it. I can say that those epics that go through me may have their epics screened by a Simon Cowell wannabe.

Yes, I do mean it, even as hard as I try to suppress the need to give some of them a fair whuppin' with a pair of pistols and piledrivers.

Worse news exist. I am seeing everything from a new angle. Music that sounds 'off', or imbalanced in mix, and is by an artist who is doing something uncalled for in the industry, is immediately passed as something rejected and not to pass my way ever again.

Some fanfiction, not pertaining to the entire collection in here and thank goodness for that, should not be read.

Some foods are not to be eaten, and some people should have a thorough character-screen of themselves and their associates they interact with on a frequent basis before yelling their heads off at each other and creating spite for themselves and others.

I have been slamming my electone shut more often that not, angered and ruffled that I could not play this and this right, I missed this and this note, and I could not execute the exam piece properly.

And did I fail to mention that this has been going on for more than a week?

If this is detrimental for my health, someone had better tell me sooner or later.

If this is good for my maturing conscience, someone better tell me that too.

Or this could have been the result of eating pig intestines last night. I'm not touching that for a long time! (But my grandma is bringing me out tomorrow for more... I don't know if I can handle this...)

Am I ranting?

I must be raving mad. I must be spiting a lot more fire than Tahu can conjure out of the lava that surrounds his being. Can you even extract or create fire from lava?

The worst is nigh. One must have been expecting. If there is a 'bad', there 'is' a worse. If there is a 'worse', there is bound to be a 'worst'.

And that 'worst', my friends, is that I cannot understand or tolerate that people accept that! They accept a lot of fallible and those I label as unfit to chew on.

All right, now I sound absolutely cocky.

This must be another rant. It must be. What else can I label this as? It sounds far from the track I had intent of keeping on.

The holidays are taking a toll on me. The insanity of having too much time on your hands and too little to accomplish has fallen on me precipitately.

I must be bored.