Quote Originally Posted by Kirsten
Now that guy made a final post to my thread and said he's happy that with his question he made me realize that my photos are not for the public!!!

Taking photographs is almost an addiction to me, but now I don't think I can ever do it again with joy. That guy really doesn't know what he did to me, working on these pictures was supposed to be the way back to my inner self after the burn out. Now I'm feeling totally lost, almost amputated. I think I'm going to delete my fotocommunity account the next days...

Kirsten
Kirsten, I don't know who the jerk is who is saying these things, but believe me, as one of the members of the "public", I get tremendous joy viewing your photos!! I even passed on the link to my mother who lived in Germany for a while, and to have her send to our one relative who lives in Germany now and also take wonderful photos and is an artist like you are.

You have a wonderful gift. If this guy is that unhappy with himself and his life, then he needs to just go away and be alone. Let him be an ogre all by himself. Do not play into his games. He wants you to feel badly, and if you delete your account, he has won his game. That's all this is to him, a game. Do not give in to him.

You use poetry a lot in your posts on the photo community, so here is one for you now:

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

by Dylan Thomas

It may be about death, but you are experience what you feel is the death of your creativity and I just think you need to fight that, and fight against letting that man win.... Rage against it, Kirsten!