you know that social experiment
where you stand
in an elevator
facing toward everyone
instead of with everyone?
just for a reaction?
just to see
how deeply
it unnerves
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



you can’t put your pain
in front of someone else’s
you can’t let your own darkness
everyone else’s
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.
and trying to heal
and forgetting to heal
but then remembering again.

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
but i have built myself
this mighty
& 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
& then i think
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.
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.

unlovable me

one thing i have succeeded at
one thing i am really good at
one thing i can do
i have completely internalized
that i am unlovable
check mark that box!
my beautiful frankenstein monster’s complex
i have even named it
it is a part of me
i have let it become me
i have let it define me
wrapping its sticky kisses
around me
“who needs ’em? it’s you & me against the world”
a battle i have already lost
because deep down
don’t laugh
i just
to be

a fellow blogger…and dare i say–friend–wrote a nice review of me in an effort to help me override my setting of self-sabotage.
that put me in a tail spin of imposter syndrome & unlovablility & made both really happy–but also want to dig a hole & hide away…so i got to examine those reactions and write journal pages about them.
see, you too can poke the demons! you just have to be nice to me and make me question those little whispering bastards.

sometimes i just feel extra invisible…

social media sucks ass.
i mean
at least
for us super sensitive
extra damaged
sometimes i hate
so so so much
stupid tool
i feel like a stupid tool
extra invisible
everyone hates me
why do i do this


this is the third inking i have done today.
i am about to post it on facebook. in that stupid group i am in. and it will get zero “likes” as have the other two today.

my art doesn’t suck that bad.
why can’t i get a “like”….

and why do i care?

fuck a duck

i am ready to just quit facebook. a fucking social media site should not be able to cause me this kind of torment.
it’s stupid.
i know it’s stupid.
yet i am tormented.


i am going to keep doing inktober.
i am going to keep doing art.
i am going to keep practicing my ink brush painting (right now i am opening the book the photo ark to a random page and painting it.)

and! and–i am going to get back to my comics. my moses jones and all the others.

it’s been too long.

so fuck you, facebook. even if you hate my art. i love my art.

i love being an artist.

a nice fucking neurotic artist.

from the journal of…

i just realized why i am feeling
so profoundly sad
& heartbroken
i met two of my husbands
& one of my fiances
in septembers past…
september is either a very good
or very bad
month for me
romantically speaking….

and since my romantic value is so intertwined with my heart value…with my self value….

thanks a fucking lot culture that makes women worthless unless they are valued by a man.

fuck me.
don’t fuck me.
i am unfuckable.
just a baby vessel who is spent already and who draws stupid pictures anyway.

there is this song that comes on the radio that makes me want to run over the artist with my truck. james arthur’s “say you won’t let go.”
man, that song pisses me off. it’s like a man proving he’s mr. perfect, caring man…like there is such a thing.
i am just feeling very oh-so crappy about love & romance & relationships & i just kind of hate everybody right now (not you though.)
if good love exists, i have never actually seen it.
which just pisses me off.

like, what did i do?
did i crush puppies in a past life?
what lesson am i supposed to learn here?

i’m pretty useless these days.
i have produced some art, but i not-so-secretly fear it sucks.
i am a terrible mom.
i just want to crawl in a hole with a bottle of whiskey.
i’m pretty sure i have no friends
or else i’d be saying this to them
not torturing you with it.
and when strangers smile at me in public, i think they must be confused.

sorry if i have sung this song before.
sorry if you are tired of it.
i just feel like crap.

and i hate my art.