This is a matter of life and death.
Hello! Mod 5ider here! I’d like to take a moment to talk about something very serious.
tl;dr? skip to the sixth paragraph for the point.
I’ve been a member of this community for as long as I can remember. You may know me by a vast number of my other names; such as 5-second-gigapause, Bibliophallic, ms-paint34, deej300, passiveaggressionpause, or even ask-caliboner. Over the years, I’ve worked tirelessly to provide this community with countless forms of auditory, literary, visual, and interactive art; without any designation, expectation, solicitation, or reservations towards receiving anything in return.
I did my best to keep my personal life out of it, because I understand that for many of you my content is something of an escape-fantasy for you. My life, and the situations that I am dealing with would dilute and defeat the purpose behind making these works in the first place! I did not do it, after all, in order to become famous, or make money off of my following.
I did not do it to garner attention or show off my impressive skills. It not do it to accumulate the following of devoted fans who want nothing more than to loyally, and attentively support me in all my future artistic endeavors. I did not do it as an outlet for all the pain, rage, and anguish that I deal with on a day to day basis; that you might understand how difficult it is to live as I have.
I did it because I want to make people happy… and, as long as people were being touched by my works, I told myself that I didn’t mind that all these things that normally come with popularity, and being a person who regularly and predictably produces great art, may not ever come to me. Even though the works that I produce would gain upwards of tens of thousands of views and listens, I did not mind remaining in relative obscurity all this time. I did my absolute best to make absolutely certain that my private life, and my public life, were kept very distinct.
I wanted to solve my real world problems with real world solutions; even to the point where I would take down posts that spread information regarding my private life if they were to go in front of the wrong audience.
Unfortunately, my problems have now grown beyond the scope of my control. I am dealing with a situation that I have no imaginable way to deal with on my own. On the evening of Tuesday, March 21st, my nephew attempted to kill me. I survived the attack, suffering only a broken arm, and a crushed larynx. He is on the run, and charges have been filed.
Nothing I couldn’t handle.
As you can see, I made no mention of this at any point on my art and poetry centered platforms. I did not want to make a commotion, and I did not want to attract unnecessary attention to the situation; which was already very delicate as it was. I would handle it, just as I handled everything else. My throat healed quickly, after all! but as time went on, it became more and more apparent that there was something wrong with my arm.
A Doctor would later confirm my suspicions in a Friday morning appointment to the orthopedic center. Apparently, my bones were slowly, but surely, slipping out of alignment over the past three days, and I would have to have surgery done very soon, or lose the faculty of my arm.
The arm I use to strum the guitar.
The arm I use to write poetry.
The arm that I’ve used, and trained, and perfected to do the amazing things that I can do as long as I have been alive.
That is what is at stake.
I simply cannot deal with this on my own. I simply do not have the means to fund this surgery on my own. I simply do not have 5,700 dollars to give.
So, I find myself at an impasse.
If you have ever listened to a piece of music that I created, or laughed at a short story I wrote, or marveled at the masterful artworks I planned, or gasped in awe of a poem I writ, then I charge you to commission me. Donate to my paypal. Buy my album. Request a poem.
Or even if you can’t support me monetarily, please spread this post to as many people as you can. There’s no way I can drum up what I need within a week, without your help, and I do need your help. I need it now.
Because if you wait too long, you’ll never see anything from me again.
