Exhausted...

Yesterday was a long day and my body just doesn't recover like it used to. I found out that my grandmother in hospice seemed to be truly on her way out so to speak. As such, I headed up to the home to say goodbye and didn't end up getting into bed until after 2pm. Since I had to work last night, I didn't exactly get a great deal of sleep. As such, this won't be a particularly lengthy or interesting.

I have been debating changing around my goal schedule for the next decade. Initially, I was planning on doing 5 volumes of SDNT back to back, but I think I might space those out, and do something a little different between each of them. I've got some self-contained longer works if also like to see completed. Perhaps it's just the proximity of death at present, but I'd like to see some of these other projects come to fruition.

Dicks for listening!

First quarter done...

I'm feeling pretty good about it, all things considered. I finished MTC, making it the very first proper comic project I've actually finished (school assignments aside) and got it uploaded to the web page. I also got the Delores Stroke uploaded as well, though I think it could stand another edit for posterity. Un Chien is coming along well, the inks being completed slowly but surely. I changed from a couple of different Japanese inks to Higgins India ink. It's just the slightest bit slower when it comes to drying and that really seems to help with the pen's flow. I'm thankful because it was definitely getting tedious fighting with both the flow of ink from the pen and nib holders that struggled to hold the nibs.

For the next quarter, it's time to get back up on the weekly/ monthly goal train. I'm slacking when it comes to my movies and comics. I've also not been sketching enough. I'd like to see these improve. If anything, improvement/ picking up the pace is the goal of the next 3 months. By the end of them, I'd like to see Un Chien complete and uploaded, Kunte complete, more art on the web page, and the stories for SDNT finalized and ready to go into layouts.

And I know I've said this before and will most likely say it again, but I'm also intending to get more regular with the blog posts. To keep myself going on them, I'll try and come up with a new idea each day and then, every three days or so, pick my favorite for a blog post. I'm sure some of it will be updates, some the ever-pleasant lonely white man ranting, maybe some story ideas/ practice: I'll try at least to make them interesting... We'll see how that goes.

I'm curious to see where I'm actually at in 3 months/ halfway through the year. I don't think SDNT will ultimately release this year, but I still see a large amount of content being produced, not just Un Chien and MTC, but also some Frenchies, more Ephemerol, Kunte...I'm excited to see where I'm at.

Dicks for listening!

Struggle bussin'

Will I ever truly be impressive?

Anywho...

I'm genuinely struggling with Un Chien at the moment. Some of it is working with nibs. To be fair, it didn't seem that difficult at the start. The initial pages even felt like they were progressing relatively smoothly. Now it feels like a fight every time I go to put ink to paper. Sometimes the ink flows, sometimes it doesn't. When it does flow, it's not always flowing well. It feels like these pages are taking so much longer than they should and the results don't look like their worth the effort.

Admittedly, this is a lot of bellyaching, a side-effect I suppose of doing my best to create for the sake of the creation. It's difficult to move forward whilst trying to remove the hope for success, enough so that it does make me wonder why I'm bothering? What's the aim?

Am I trying to shield myself from disappointment? Am I trying to avoid the commitment? Am I just delusional and trading one delusion for another?

Yes does seem to be the answer to all of these questions. While I can certainly stick to the promise of a dream, the execution is another story. The follow-through, it would seem, consistently eludes me.

But does it do so because I actively avoid pursuit?

And so another spiral goes and putters out. They always start out so promising too, like I'm right on the verge of something great. Something great, locked away deep inside of me. I spiral and find myself outside of its cell, comically large ring of keys in my hands. I fumble through them and try, desperately to find the one that fits only for reality to find me and put a stop to it.

Reality in this case is a hungry dog licking my leg, looking up at me and wanting some food and attention. Not the worse way to come back down.

Or back up.

Whatever.

Dicks for listening!

It's about that time...

In a minute,

I'm a need a...

A...

A fucking original thought of something Jesus...

Anywho...

I'm about to go back to 4 days of work. Generally, for those who don't know, vet med either does three 12 hour shifts or four 10 hour shifts per week. I generally do four 10s because I like to make sure I'm scheduled for 40 hours. Since November, I've been doing my best to pick up an extra shift every week putting me at 50 or so hours a week to help make some extra cash to make clearing debts a bit easier. That said, I am starting to burn out.

While I can deal with just being tired, the issue with burn out for me is that I tend to have a lot more trouble controlling my anger. That always seems to be the first hint that my meds aren't working as well as they should. From the anger comes regret and then the ever-lovely spiral. I don't want to make paying off these debts take any longer than it already has, but I really don't want to burn out.

Thankfully, though going down to 4 days will make life tighter financially, it will increase my time to work on art which is pretty great. That should, if nothing else, make it easier to hit some of these goals I've set for myself. As for those goals, we're moving along, slowly but surely. The North x Northwest frenchie is just about done and the second draft of another comic story is in the can. Up next is Un Chien.

Dicks for listening!

Bit by bit...

Bit by bit the brittle fillings break. Bits and pieces scape my tongue and crack against the solid bits of tooth as I bite down. Residual wear and tear. Some of it's from the grinding. I can see darkened bits start to appear along the seams where filling meets tooth, like mold along the edge of the floor boards. Each crease the promise of a future problem.

I wear my smile like an old suit. I'm too cheap, too broke really, to buy another, so I use it sparingly. Even then it ain't worth the wait.

I really need to stop using my teeth to open shit.

Anywho...

I've thankfully been making progress towards that absurd list of goals. Aside from finishing up the last of the Christmas presents, I've made progress on the NxNW Frenchie and finished up the second draft of one of the stories in SDNT.

Little by little...

As much as I enjoy spreading things out, having small bits of each project as a goal each month, it seems to me that it would be wise to use each week/month to focus more on less tasks. Have I written this before? Tried this? Failed at this?

I don't know or remember. I'm going to do it anyways. The hope, of course, is that I'll be failing forwards. Once I finish the frenchie I'm on, I'll shift back to Un Chien inks and dedicate myself to getting those done with a rough goal of having them inked by April then toned and finished by May.

After this, I'll knock out the inks on a few frenchies. July is when I want to finally be knee deep in creating the art for SDNT. As for the other projects, I'll get to them or I won't.

Writing and sketching can be done at work/before bed.

Ephemerol is the one I'm less than sure about. I want it done, but it's a time consuming endeavor. The advantage is that the next 2 books are "roughly" done, but they do need a hearty amount of work to be done.

I don't know. I'll get Un Chien done and go from there.

Dicks for listening!

At what point does a lifestyle choice...

Become less of a choice and more of an attempt to recontextualize one's failures as positives. In other words, at what point am I actively creating artwork with a purpose, and when am I just trying to compensate for both having non-commercial artwork, and for being too lazy to bother looking for the people willing to pay for it. Admittedly, I actively worked against myself for years. I ignored interest in my work or in my abilities because it didn't fit a very specific (yet entirely undefined) path in my life. If the opportunity wasn't what I wanted, it didn't exist. Needless to say, this was not my smartest move.

Debate aside, I will say that it's not such a terrible thing that I didn't get what I wanted. Aside from my own uncertainty and lack of direction, a complete lack of success gives me plenty of freedom to follow my heart. After all, it's awful hard to lose a career I never had to begin with.

Anywho...

Forty doesn't really feel any different than 39. I hadn't necessarily expected it to, but the way we hype up new decades, there was still this sense of curiosity about how it would feel. As par for my course, I was anxious about whether or not it would bring about more shame or anxieties around my ambitions and goals. I've achieved so very little, I expected a not insignificant amount of dread. Surprisingly, it was just a day, just a number. If anything, I feel more pathetic about my past/ image than I'd figured. It just doesn't really matter to me like I thought it would.

Thank goodness for small blessings.

Dicks for listening!

Riki Tiki Tavi?

More like Diki Liki Crab meat.

Anywho…

While not technically inaccessible, I am, for all intents and purposes, considering my Instagram gone, and it feels great. Here's what happened:

Last week, I decided to participate in this week long blackout of Meta services. I can't remember what random political reason it was supposed to be for this time, but it would supposedly show Zucknuts...something? I don't know. It just seemed like a great excuse to disconnect and feel morally superior in the process. I logged out and, for good measure, went ahead and deleted the app for good measure. So far, so good.

A week goes by and I ready myself to reinstall and get back into my groove. I don't necessarily want to, because being disconnected still holds a certain cathartic relief. It isn't just the doom-scrolling that gets to me. I dislike the compulsion, don't get me wrong, and the constant validation that we as a species absolutely do not deserve to survive certainly gets to me, but a lot of it is about art. Being on social media, there is still this deep, aggravating feeling of hope that comes with seeing everyone else's art and the amount of engagement that goes along with it.

It begins innocently enough by seeing other's artwork, seeing those view counts and then thinking to myself that I can do that too. This is where it starts to slide downhill pretty quickly. I am not a terrible artist by any stretch of the imagination. My drafting skills are quite solid. I won't attempt to claim originality or depth, but there is certainly some skill there. On the surface then, it should be easy enough. Except it isn't. Of course it isn't. Any belief that it is, or even that it should be, is delusional. I am, for all intents and purposes, not really built much for social media success these days and I don't really care except when I'm on social media.

I make schedules for myself, set deadlines and pretend that I'm going to reach them and I certainly continue to push myself to create, but look at how well I maintain this blog. Look at how easy it is for me to go long stretches without making a single post. What's more, this is easier than the art. This is just rambling. Seriously, I barely do any editing here and even this habit is difficult for me to get myself into. Social media posting schedules? Fucking forget about it.

And like I said, this doesn't bother me, except when I'm on social media. That f.o.m.o. over views and engagement and success just eats at me and I hate it. Some time ago I wrote about pursuing what mattered to me in art rather than what I thought people wanted. It sounded great, maybe even read okay, but being on social media causes some serious issues there and I'm ready to not have them.

Or at the very least avoid them.

Fate, it would seem, was looking out for me on this one.

I tried to log back in to my account and, of course, did not remember my password. The only one I had saved was for an old, unused account. My email addresses are linked to old, unused accounts. Attempting the 'forgot my password' function kept giving me errors. Basically, all the standard ways of getting into my account failed me. That's not to say that there is no way to get back the account. I'm sure there is. I just don’t feel like jumping through all the hoops for it. Good riddance I say.

Dicks for listening!

Imagine all the pee-holes

It's easy if you try.
Just think of the bulging mushrooms,
Ready to cream up your pie

Imagine all the pee-holes
Rather hard to do
I forgot the pussies
Well they got pee-holes too...

Anywho...

I find it rather depressing with not only the difficulty in avoiding the support of Jeff Bezos, but how I'm the one who suffers because of this choice. I mean honestly, what do I get out of it outside of some sense of self-righteous superiority? I realize how white and privileged I sound, because that is precisely what I am being, but do I have to care? I recognize that I should. I recognize that I should work harder to support small business, that I should work against streaming music and try to buy more and go to more concerts (or at the very least buy tickets). I know I should do this the same way I know I shouldn't shop at Wal Mart and shouldn't eat fast food. I know all of this, but I don't want to do it. I'm lazy, tired, depressed. Trying to stand against what this country is becoming, something I've done my fair share of work to help via unquestioned compliance, seems so pointless. There's no hope there, no good feeling. It feels less like a moral effort and more like I'm just a child trying to be different.

What to do, what to do...

Dicks for listening!

Welcome back...

Goddamn. I got real behind on entries didn't I? No updates, no end of the year wrap-up, no "New Year new me" bullshit. Just a whole lot of nothing. For those who wanted that, I'm sorry to disappoint you. For those thankful for silence, I'm even more pleased to disappoint you. You hear that void? You hear that clouds? Figments of my imagination I hope you're listening. Fuck all of you, I'm back.

Well that felt good. Pointless though it was, I enjoyed it.

Anywho...

In the spirit of accountability, I've decided to go ahead and post my goal list for the year. Last year I took a break from goals and, while needed to get myself re-centered, it's time to get back up on my bullshit. That said here are, in no particular order, my goals for 2025:

Complete/ Publish SDNT
Complete/ Publish 2 volumes Ephemerol
Complete/ Publish Kunte
Complete/ Publish MTC
Complete/ Publish Un Chien
Complete 30 stickers
Fill 300 sketch pages
Fill 1/2 practice skins
Generate 365 sticker ideas
Complete 12 Ciné Frenché
Complete 4 math classes
Pay off car
Pay off 2 credit cards
Be down to 171lbs
Listen to 60 new audiobooks
Watch 60 new movies
Read 60 new graphic novels/ collections
Spend 300 hours gaming
Plan 2nd issue of SDNT
Complete red sketches for Ephemerol
Reach level 30 in Habitica
Complete yearly audiobook list
Complete yearly graphic novel list
Get on regular walking schedule with Emi

I recognize the ridiculousness of this list. I recognize how impossible it very well may be. Here's the thing, I turn 40 this year. I have decades of "wasted" time behind me and I'm only getting closer to the fated finish line. At this point, I have no reason not to pursue this sort of nonsense. I spent how long trying to make money with shit that didn't really matter to me? How long was I motivated by "showing" old bosses and exes? I really ought to stop doing that and pursue the shit that matters to me. Regret is already setting in for me and I'd rather not add to it.

Dicks for listening!

Been getting into gloryholes...

The porn category, not the real thing. To be honest, I'm not even sure I could participate in one--giving or receiving. As with most social activities and anything requiring physical contact, I'm feeling the anxiety starting in already. The fantasy of the gloryhole though, that's definitely been peaking my interest. Given my anxiety, along with poor self-image issues, the glory hole could give me the opportunity to enjoy sexual content without having to "be" a part of it. I wouldn't have to come to grips with the usual questions of why is she doing this, do I actually matter, do I deserve to feel good, etc. The literal wall could take the place of the psychological ones.

Any who...

Found myself starting to argue again on social media. There's a feeling to it to be sure, though exactly what that feeling is I'm not entirely sure. It can be exciting, entertaining. I can feel seen and it feels like an opportunity to stand up for myself or others. Am I actually doing this? Not really. No matter what lies I might tell myself, I'm well aware that all I'm really doing is some mutual masturbation with strangers on the internet. I gotta stop though.

It isn't a moral thing or a defeated thing. The rewards aren't worth it. What are the rewards? Outside of those feelings, nothing. More importantly, spending my time doing that is spending time not creating art, playing with Emi, or just being present. It also just isn't how I want to spend my time.

So I deleted threads, again. I kept Bluesky and have been very careful to keep it as art based as possible. Here's hoping I do a better job pursuing the long term goals rather than these fleeting, bullshit social media tussles.

Dicks for listening!

Going way down, to Hadestown

Where I make something brown...

Hadestown is my butthole.

Anyways...

I fell way, way off of my posting schedule, among others, but I'm ready to get back on it. I had a couple of life changes since my last writing, mostly a change in jobs. With shifts being cut and the ones that weren't shrouded in uncertainty, not to mention the ever-increasing toxicity, it seemed like a good time to go. Thankfully, I found a new place a lot closer to home with comparable pay.

Hooray for the good fortune!

Outside of that, Un Chien is moving along quite nicely with the spot blacks and letters inked and the full inks underway. I've been using my fountain-ish pen rather than my usual pentech pens and the results are taking some getting used to. So far, each page is testing my faith in the project, but in spite of the hesitation, I'm nonetheless still excited to see it completed.

Following the election and the rush of nastiness online (general, not directly towards me) l found myself struggling with continuing to post stuff online. I recognize how full of shit I sound, but seeing the sort of people who live in this country and the hate that they carry in their hearts, I started to debate with myself if it was worth even trying to share my work. A large part of me believes these people don't deserve my joy and I surely don't want to waste it on them. (Like I said, full of shit.) It's something I have to consider when posting. This, of course, assumes that anyone will see my art anyways and, judging by my engagement numbers, that isn't likely to happen. I confused and distracted myself with a made-up problem. It won't leave me though. I suppose this is something anyone who creates has to contend with, this idea that what one creates may inspire or entertain people said creator can't stand. Perhaps it will be misinterpreted, misused. It's certainly an issue but, as I've stated, not one that necessarily applies to me. Maybe one day it will, but not right now.

I've gotten 2 of the 4 stories in SDNT drafted, so I'll be going into next yearoving swiftly. Whether I'll be able to finish Un Chien by year's end is debatable. MCT will be done as soon as I commit myself to getting it scanned.

Dicks for listening!

I hate having to work...

Earlier this week, I partook in a Teams meeting with one of the main managers where I work. As we've been hemorrhaging employees, I'd assumed it would have been a sort of check-in to see how I was doing, if I was looking at leaving: that sort of thing. It was not. What it was, was a disciplinary meeting to discuss an email I'd sent several weeks ago. The email, though admittedly produced with anger, was essentially me calling out a different manager for a post on Teams that seemed to unfairly target 2 of my teammates. The part that gets me, that makes me tilt my head and squint my eyes in confusion, was that part of the reason for the meeting was that I included these teammates among the people receiving the email. By doing that, management suggested that I was actually harming the team and comprising our unity.

Like, huh? Standing up for my teammates and including them in the message hurt the team? It's so "confusing." Obviously not really. As with any corporation, autonomy and teamwork that doesn't include management is in direct opposition to the way they work.

Oh well. At least it's another motivator to keep pushing myself to make more story progress and get these comics out.

Dicks for listening!

A bit of levity...

I'll be damned.

In spite of the prognosis, my grandmother is on the mend. While the stroke has become more apparent on her left side, she's now out of bed, building decent momentum in her wheelchair, and even wanting to be around people. I swear, her resiliency is absolutely inspiring. I'm honestly a little honored just to have a quarter of those genes floating about in me. I'm also thankful my next blog wasn't about dealing with her death.

We've got her for a bit longer yet.

It's also a glorious reminder of how short and fleeting life can be.

Could I be more of a stereotype? Probably.

Live, Laugh, Love

Fuck, Marry, Kill

Work seems like it's getting worse by the day. Some of it is just the unhappiness of my coworkers and my own willingness to feed off of it. It's something to work on to be sure, but management isn't really helping their case. It's difficult to really believe they have any idea of what they're doing--assuming of course that their goal isn't to drive away the employees they already have. If it is their goal, well I suppose they're doing a pretty good job.

More than anything, it's that same message I've been handed time and time again: I need to get out of this industry and I need to figure out how to get paid to do what I love. I want my bills paid, I'd like to buy a video game or two, and I'd like to feel safe. I'm not the most complex of people and my desires aren't crazy. I'm so, so tired of spending so much of my time working for others' successes. It's a shit way to live.

Dicks for listening!

Getting a bit heavy...

I went to visit my grandmother today. She's been in hospice for, I believe, at least a couple of months. (Time, particularly now that I work nights, seems to be losing its meaning. I'm becoming less and less conscious of it to the point where it seems I only find myself noticing it is when other people are involved.) Over the weekend, she had what is assumed to be a stroke. As she is in hospice, they're obviously not going to be running diagnostics on her, so what happened remains speculative. Still, she is now mostly non-verbal, refusing food and drink, fighting against care, and ultimately just lying in her bed, head cocked back, mouth open, drawing what sound like pained breaths. Her nurse estimates maybe a week.

I'm not entirely sure how I feel--if I'm to be honest. What's really hitting me is a distinct lack of feeling, particularly in the presence of others. As par for the course, I don't seem to feel anything but isolated when others are around. Even with my mom I'm not really great at showing or even feeling feelings. Moments like these remind me just how limited my emotional expression is in the presence of others.

Alone, I have more access to them, but even then, I'm sort of at a loss. Why don't I feel more sadness, more sorrow? I spent so much of my childhood with this woman. I traveled with her and my grandfather all around the country. Stayed at their house more times than I can count. She was such a presence in my life, why do I feel so little?

Some of it, I know, has been my long-standing issue of only seeing people in terms of either what they can do for me. I've had this issue for so long. It gets in the way of any sort of properly formulated relationship and some of that comes from regret for the way I treated my grandparents over the years. With her death imminent, I know I won't be able to make it up to her in any sort of real way. Worse, I don't regret having not tried earlier.

While deeply generous, she was not always the easiest person to be around. Both her and my late grandfather were a different sort of people, people who believed in spoiling me while treating my mother like shit. Seeing how they've treated her over the years makes it difficult to be a decent person towards them.

Maybe that's why I feel so little, outside of this confusion. Maybe deep down I don't care. Maybe I'm glad even. I hate to even type that, but maybe it's, at least in part, true. After spending way too long taking care of me in one way or another, mom moved to taking care of her husband's kids and mother, then to taking care of her own mother. When has she really had a chance to not have to be a caretaker? When has she had a chance to be free?

It sucks all the same. I hate to see how much she's suffering. I know she doesn't deserve that. She deserves peace.

Dicks for listening.

Am I the only one...

Surprised that Georgia hasn't had a school shooting since 1999?

I'm genuinely impressed. I would have guessed we would have had more shootings more often than we have actually had. I'm also proud to hear that the father was arrested alongside the son. Unsure if he'll actually see jail time, but still--seems like an improvement. Good job Georgia!

We'll call that the silver lining.

That's also all I'll say about that. I was in eighth grade when Columbine happened and, honestly, it made me kind of giddy. Fucked up sure, but as a kid who was bullied day in and day out, Columbine felt, in it's own little way, like a win for the losers. That said, the fact that there have been, what, a few hundred school shootings since Columbine really highlights just how little the people in this country care about children as a whole. Sure people may care about their children, but the idea of actually doing what's best for all children seems to be lost on so, so many gun-slinging, wanna-be heroes. As par for the course, the idea of sacrifice for the greater good (better gun control/regulation) is ignored in favor of the idea of some misplaced sense of glory. It's almost like people don't realize how often the idea of heroic actions are mirrored by villainous ones. Both are standing up for their values and gunning down the bad guys. Why wouldn't kids, particularly those struggling with identity and self-esteem, not seek to gain some glory through violence?

The best part of all this though, is that nothing will change. Fingers will be pointed at all manner of media with none pointed at the ease of acquisition for firearms and the violent values extolled as virtues within our country. Kids will keep getting shot until it truly becomes something so commonplace that it doesn't even make the news.

What a time to be alive!

Dicks for listening!

Ever masturbate...

And have a disappointing orgasm?

It's a strange sort of thing. I was giving it a go earlier today and just lost the fantasy. I lost the fantasy, somewhat lost the erection, but refused to lose the drive to come.

So I kept at it.

I switched clips, tried to conjure some manner of new fantasy, and almost lost the erection completely, but managed, in the end to get it back and climax. The orgasm itself, as implied earlier, was disappointing.

I really should look into getting laid again, though it will require dealing with my mountain of insecurities and dislike of physical contact...

Any who...

I'm getting so close to seeing the pencils for Un Chien complete that I'm getting antsy. I don't want to rush the final pages, but goddamn I want to see these pencils finished.

Soon enough, soon enough.

Dicks for listening!

Work sucks…

I know.

She left me roses by the stairs,

she made them out of pubic hairs…

Any who…

I have got to get out of working for other people and make money on some art. I’m afraid that I’m going to become some bitter, toxic old man, broken by life and mad at everyone else experiencing some success. I can feel it building and it scares me.

On a similar note, all the progress I’ve been making on my planner of ideas this year has given me this weird new sense of fomo. Have I mentioned the book before? I can’t remember. In case I haven’t, the basic concept has been to write down a new idea every day. By and large, I’ve been fairly diligent with it, and I have generated a fairly large number of ideas. The issue that I’m starting to have is realizing how many more of these I could have seen created if I’d just gotten my shit together sooner. I’m seeing how fleeting an limited time is and how relatively little of it I have left to see any of these ideas come to fruition. It saddens me, but also makes going to work more and more difficult. If I let it, it could easily consume even more of my time than it already has.

I do wish I’d done a better job of using my time when I was younger, but I can’t really change that now. All I can do is use my time to the best of my ability.

As for art, I know it’s something I wanted/ something I want, but maybe I need to learn to want it more than I already do. Maybe I need to truly let it become a burning obsession such that I ultimately can’t stress out about work or anything else for that matter. Maybe I need to push myself to let art consume me such that all that matters is art and Emi.

Maybe I’m just lying to myself.

Dicks for listening!

Maybe the Internet is Right...

Maybe I'm not so weird after all.

I recently learned, following a little online rabbit hole, about Harm OCD. Not sure if anyone else has this, but I have these horrible, intrusive thoughts about my amazing dog Emi. I'll be petting her or playing hands/tug of war or something of the sort, and something violent and upsetting will just pop into my head. Sometimes it even happens when she's just sleeping in my lap. I'll have sudden thoughts about punching or choking her, throwing her by the neck. One time, as we were lying in bed, I suddenly found myself thinking about how she would struggle if I held her underwater and what kind of noises she would make. My stomach knotted, I felt myself grow nauseous. I hated my brain and hated myself for having these thoughts. They terrified me. What if I suddenly did that? What if I suddenly decided to hurt her? Can I even be trusted with her?

These thoughts have thankfully been intermittent and not particularly common, but they are always unpleasant when they hit. My big concern was that something fundamentally good within me had broken. I've long since had trouble forming meaningful attachments with other people, and even becoming attached to little Emi took no small amount of effort.

Maybe I truly am broken?

After saying fuck it and looking up these intrusive thoughts online, I was pleased to find that they are the early/first stages in Harm OCD. Not to get too into it, but the basic gist is that fear of either harming or having harm come to someone we love, be it person or pet, can cause an increase in anxiety such that one begins to develop OCD traits to prevent this harm. Thankfully, I have not developed any of these OCD traits/tics, but I do still have these thoughts on occasion. I'm not big into self-diagnosing, but finding this out, and knowing that I am diagnosed with anxiety, brought me some relief. While I'm far from perfect, I'm glad to know that my ability to attach and love and cherish someone other than myself isn't truly broken.

Dicks for listening!

No song today...

I just don't have one in my heart tonight.

Any who...

I've got to find something less repetitive to do with this blog. I'm not talking about the songs, that shit will continue. I'm talking about the actual content. I don't just want to keep writing the same variations of "making progress." I'd also like to avoid using every post to talk about my somewhat shaky mental health and general lack of desire to live. It feels good to write it, don't get me wrong, and while I'm in the middle of it, it feels like I'm saying some real deep shit. I feel like I'm reaching out and connecting with all of these invisible, non-existent people (as opposed to the non-existent people you can see) and I feel seen and supported. I don't necessarily think either of these things are bad, per se, but it is kind of fucking boring. I'd like to mix it up, plant some seeds of potential personal essays.

Seems like it might make for some better reading.

Dicks for listening!

Pretty Kitty...

Pretty kitty,

Licking on the titty

Pretty kitty,

Pretty kitty,

Perfect little titties

Any who…

Lord I'm feeling beat down this week. Between a bullshit staff meeting that could have honestly been a group text that read, "Fuck you, we don't give a shit," and business finally starting to pick up, I feel beat down. My body feels more than a little beaten.

I'm still working on Un Chien, though progress is going slower than I'd like. I'd love to push myself, but I know that not getting enough sleep leaves my mental health cracking and opens the door for headaches that slow me down even more. I'm glad to have my passion back though, I just need to remember to make sure to feed it more.

Outside of the comics, I've been polishing an ephemerol sketch daily. I'd also like to start getting the pencils done on some Frenchies, but I'm going to need to refine/find a schedule to facilitate this happening.

Dicks for listening!