Ok, so check this out: One of the largest reasons for me to finally start creating a comic was my desire to share my philosophy on reality with other people through a potable medium. So rather than sounding like a jackass who spouts off his opinions at the drop of a hat, I want people to be entertained by what I write, then think back on it and realize it has an intelligent message as well.
Well, I just realized that I don't even have a philosophy on reality yet, so then I had a nervous breakdown and died... YAY! Well, actually I've got a lot of philosophy churning about my brain, but none of it is connected. They are all a bunch of seperate projects which my brain jumps back and forth from, but my mind never spends all of it's time on one concept alone. This makes it rather difficult to figure out what I believe. I pulled a string, then the woolen sweater which represents my existence (Soft and fluffy, and oh so fun to wear) began to unravel. I guess it's kinda frustrating. Everytime I get a good idea and start writing, I get tripped up on something and realize that I still have a long way to go. We'll get there someday, though. You'll all see.
My father committed suicide. He did so when I was just a small child. The implications didn’t sink into my skull, though I was affected. He was a man living with one foot in the door, and the other out the door, then one day he took both feet out the door by pulling the trigger of a gun that was pointing at his own head. I don’t know what was going on in his head. Was it confusion? Was it enlightenment? I don’t know. All I know is that since my father committed this act, I have been told that I am more likely to commit it myself, like some horrible tradition. I don’t want to, but sometimes I feel the same way, like I’m living life with one foot in the door and one foot out the door, and if it becomes to much for me to handle, then I myself could just take that other foot out the door, though I wouldn’t shoot myself because I’d want it to be an open casket funeral. As you can tell, I’ve already thought about it more than I should.
All that matters to me is expressing my self through art, finding a way to allow people to understand me, when truly I don’t even understand myself. The images that I pull from the well of my psyche are perplexingly un-interpretab
Still grasping for that ever elusive nich into the comic world. I want to be the best. I want to make a comic so visually pleasing that people would want to buy it just to look at the pictures. And I want the art to be matched only by the quality of writing. I want to tell a tail so strange that you have no idea what's going to happen next, but you crave it. I want it to totally take you out of your world, and put you into mine. IT'S SO DIFFICULT THOUGH!
I'm 21 now, will it ever happen?