backwards

you know that social experiment
where you stand
backwards
in an elevator
facing toward everyone
instead of with everyone?
just for a reaction?
just to see
how deeply
it unnerves
them?
that’s me
i am the backward person
in the elevator
my whole life
& personality
is me the wrong way around
in an elevator
unnerving people
with none of us
really able to say
why

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and so this is christmas

i used to joke
every year
“will this be the christmas
someone dies?”
dark jokes
somehow kept us alive
my dysfunctional family
…then
two years in a row
someone i loved
died
right around christmas time

my parents have
planned
to visit me
this christmas
unbidden
the thought
popped
right back into my head
again

so i drew my bottom half the way i always drew christmas trees when i was a kid. does anyone see that? i liked that idea.
my folks, whom i am estranged from–yet whose house i live in–are coming back to visit me? my kids? their house?
and i am terrified.
i think it triggered a lot of the darker stuff i have been posting in the last few days, their planned visit.
my parents…let me tell you about my parents….
(it’s a bladerunner reference…i’m not really going to tell you about my parents. that is a whole series of psychology books)

hurting

you can’t put your pain
in front of someone else’s
happiness
you can’t let your own darkness
eclipse
everyone else’s
light
you can’t
because who are you then?
you are the monster
you fear
the most.
taking what has hurt you
& hurting others
with it.

who can tell i was raised catholic? i swear i am not obsessed with angels nor do i entertain delusions of my own divinity. just the whole concept of wings & horns. the weight they carry. the meanings they portray.

i’m healing from this last dance with darkness…should you be wondering. two steps forward, one step back.
healing
and trying to heal
and forgetting to heal
but then remembering again.

spigot of passion

spigot of passion
a high school friend
dubbed me
because i fell in love
so easily
and back out again
just as easy
“just wait; she goes through men
pretty quick,”
another friend told a girl
who wanted my boyfriend
some years later.
meanwhile
i have a history of
boyfriends of friends
approaching me
like an easy
target
a plaything
…this is what the world thinks
i guess
of girls like me…
i just wanted to kiss a boy
(never someone else’s boyfriend)
what’s so wrong
with a girl
who likes boys?

this one is out of order. and i think it might need a longer platform…maybe a whole comic.
i wrote it today, while i have two pages waiting in the queue to be illustrated.
but the way i wanted to paint it came to me, & i just had to do it.

i was looking through the friends of a friend on facebook and saw one of the boyfriends of a friend who drunkenly tried to get with me. it kind of triggered this. i mean, he wasn’t the first or the last boyfriend of a friend who tried to do this.
so i began to wonder…why me?
and although i wanted to credit it to the fact that i am very different than most people–thereby attractive…i think it just comes down to the fact that i like sex and that was grossly misunderstood by the world at large.
i like boys.
i like kissing.
and i will go after a boy i like.

i guess girls aren’t supposed to do that? they aren’t supposed to be the aggressor?

fuck me.

i just like kissing.
and sex.
and boys.

what’s so wrong about that?

(please no lewd or weirdly suggestive responses to this post. you know what? men, just be quiet here. i am expressing something. don’t make me feel like trash for it.)

this mighty trap

i don’t want to do this anymore
i don’t
what if
every life decision
i make
is just my setting myself up
for failure
i don’t want to do this
anymore
but i have built myself
this mighty
trap
& i don’t know¬† how to get out
& then i find myself thinking
well…there is that one way out…
you know
the one we’re not supposed
to talk
about?
& then i think
no.
but when i read
an obituary
i can’t help but think
lucky fucker

this was just about as low as i got this week. of course, there is no escaping my life. it’s not like i can drop the animals off at the humane society & my kids off at the orphanage & go live on the french riviera…
instead i have to do the hard work. you know, learn how to cope. learn how not to resort to being an asshole & then hating myself & hating my life.
yeah.
that.
i guess i need to do that.

ps. though i like to draw myself nude because it seems to portray how vulnerable i feel. i have this weird (catholic?) fear of drawing my pubic area. i was pleased with myself for fashioning a “fig leaf” of sorts in this self-portrait.
ha!