MichaelGermany

So, recently I've been experiencing a bunch of copyright claims on my Redbubble account. While I respect the idea of copyright and giving owners their rights to things, such as Pokemon (which is where three of the claims came from), I don't understand how my small, barely bought-from account is somehow more visible than the top selling items under the "Pokemon" tag on Redbubble. Like, yes, you can find some of my Pokemon things on Redbubble under the tag, but you have to go to, like, page 20+ before you even see one. Meanwhile, the top selling products are virtually untouchable, despite how recognizable they are and how easy it is to find. All-in-all, I respect copyright claims, but I don't understand how all of my content is somehow more noticeable and more accessible to content owners with my items having <500 views and usually 0 purchases while there are items of upwards of probably 10,000 views and tens of hundreds of purchases that can stay at the top of Redbubble's lists forever. I don't understand the logic there.

I decided to make a Redbubble account to post a few things here and there onto. Not everything will be posted there, and I will still be posting on here the most. I just figured I'd spread myself out to other platforms as well. I'll also be linking any pieces that I upload there in the descriptions of their page here.

Update: I also made a Spreadshirt for the hell of it! At the moment, I've barely touched it, but in case I begin using it, I linked it below.

Redbubble: www.redbubble.com/people/micha…
Spreadshirt: www.spreadshirt.com/user/micha…

Also, my Tumblr if that interests you as well: michaelgermany.tumblr.com/

You guys should definitely check out my friend, . She uploads some awesome digital art and sketches alongside her short stories which are great. I know not too many people read these journals, but she really wants to become an English major and I'm sure she'd appreciate the views and comments from anyone ^^. Here's a few links to the beginnings of some of her stories:

Distortion (pt. 1)She waltzed into the gymnasium and practically strutted her way down the long, gray carpet that had been laid out on the floor prior to the entire student body being called to sit in the bleachers for a surprise guest speaker. As far as any of us knew, this assembly was unscheduled; not a single one of the teachers seemed to know what the principal was referring to when he came over the loudspeaker during first period and asked the students, and the students only, to report to the gym. Needless to say, the majority of the staff didn't appreciate having their instructional time interrupted without warning, but practically every one of the students was hovering somewhere between pure curiosity or confusion as to why we'd been pulled out of class and elation or relief to be missing a long awaited and dreaded test or a pop quiz a teacher had sprung on his unsuspecting students as they'd walked into the classroom.
The woman carefully climbed the steps up to the stage that wasn't normally pr Shadows (entire story + final part)From the moment I was old enough to develop and express a fear that many would describe as “irrational,” I’ve been told that there’s no reason behind the intense terror that I was experiencing every time I was forced into a situation that involved being exposed to a vivid light. Most children are afraid of the dark and of the monsters and the ghosts that they believe reside within the oozing gloom, ready and waiting to drag them into their closet or underneath their bed, but not me. I fear the exact opposite; I can’t stand being made to stand out in the sun or keep the lights on in my bedroom after the sun retreats below the horizon. When the lights are on, the shadows come out to play.
Almost anyone you ask will explain to you that shadows are merely a shape formed on the ground where a solid object blocked rays of light from reaching the end of their journey to the pavement or the carpet or that one, tiny spot on the grass where a leaf had fallen just mo Untitled (Foreward and first part of Ch 1)FOREWARD
It’s exceedingly difficult to watch those that we love and hold dear slowly deteriorate and slip away from us. One day they’re standing there next to us, smiling and laughing as though nothing in this world could drag them down and bury them alive, but time runs out for every individual, and when the clock strikes 13 and the skeletal hands of death gently clamp around their heart and mouth, they slowly stop breathing and sink into the mud at their feet.
Those that are lucky wander off in tow of the Grimm Reaper without realizing where it is that they’re going, leaving behind their physical bodies as they sleep, eventually grasping the fact that morning isn’t going to come.
The majority of us are less fortunate, dying in some painful way that bitter rivals likely wouldn’t wish upon one another. We see our lives flash before our eyes before the moment of impact or witness the fear that consumes the faces of our family members as we fall to the groun

Have a nice day~

So, my mom walks into my room today and sees that I have bedsheets laying on my chair. She asked me what they were and I told her. Suddenly, she's angry and is asking me why I didn't give them to her a few days ago. I explain to her that she had told me she didn't want to do them when I told her, so I left them there to wait until she was ready. She then points at a pile of trash on my floor that I didn't even notice and asks me about it. Earlier today, that garbage wasn't there, meaning that while I was at a friend's house either my dog or cat got into it and pulled it out. I explained this but she got angrier, saying I should have thrown it away on garbage night, even though the bag I'm using in my trash can is only a fourth of the way full and consists almost entirely of paper, so it's not even stinking up my room. I said I didn't want to waste a plastic bag on that but she got angrier still and barged into my room and began screaming and throwing loose paper on the floor into the trash can and saying how we don't respect her and how it's her house. Again, this paper has been on the floor for a few hours at the most while I wasn't even home. She then runs off to her room after I say how she's getting ridiculously mad over the stuff she's mad about. When she gets in her room after slamming my door, I tell her, "As long as you yelling at me makes you feel better, fine.",which is out of order to some degree but am I wrong? I mean, this is insanely too far. She comes back to my room after that comment and says "No, it's because you're so DAMN LAZY YOU WON'T EVEN GET A JOB." which is the comment that made me infuriated. I've explained to her several times that I wasn't going to get a job until I could drive so that I could go to work without bugging her or dad all the time. I told her at the beginning of last August that I wanted to get my temps and begin driving school, but she pushed it back and back until it was winter. I live in Ohio, so I didn't want to be going through driving school while the roads are a mess, so I told her I'd wait until school was out. (Because early spring in Ohio is basically winter still until May) I told her mid-May that I was ready to go do all the stuff for it and she said okay and kept ignoring it. Now it's almost July and she still keeps pushing it back. I've even been mentioning it every so often by asking her when we were going but she keeps making excuses. I asked her today before I left for my friend's house when we were going to do it but she said she didn't know. So it's like??? What am I supposed to do? I'm just being pushed into a corner where I can't do one thing that would be a prerequisite for the other thing she wants me to do. After all of that explaining, she went to slap me like I was an eight year old and walked away. I laughed and told her I am seventeen, just in case she forgot, and that she doesn't have to resort to violence to get her point across and that in fact it just showed me how immature she was acting that she couldn't just talk or even argue with her seventeen year old without trying to treat me like a baby. She came back at me with, "BUT DID I DO IT?" as if that made it seem any better for her. Like, oh, I only threatened to kill this one guy one time but I didn't ACTUALLY DO IT SO THERE SHOULDN'T BE ANY CONSEQUENCES RIGHT? 

I don't know, man. I understand that my mom is stressed out a lot of the time, so it just takes some small things to make her go into a rage, but it's instances like this that remind me that she's not always right and though she likes to say she admits it when she is wrong, she doesn't. I don't like the stay mad at my mom because she does do so much for us and I'm very grateful for what she does have to put up with from my brother, dad, and I. I just wish she knew how to better control her stress and didn't think that she is the only person with problems just because hers might be worse than others. (I.e. If I come home from a long day at school and I'm tired because I'm in AP and honors classes which are very demanding and basically kill my soul, she'll go on about how she has things of her own to do so I shouldn't complain. Like, fuck that. I can be tired too. My friends can be tired from a long day too. The world doesn't revolve around you.) I love you, mom, but you really need to tone it down and think about things before you go on a rampage. This argument I had with her today was completely nonsensical and could have been resolved in five minutes, but she completely stepped over a line.