You are nothing if you're not useful
You are nothing without me
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I've been Going Through It pretty hard lately. Times have been rough, and in these times I turn to escapism. And it got me thinking about the importance of it, and how it can save us. And how for me this has manifested in giant monsters beating the hell out of each other in movies, and giant monsters are very often used in allegorical n metaphorical ways for things.
So as a way to express my feelings n thoughts on escapism n vent how I been feeling I made this comic n put a lot of thought into it. While for me the Bad Times Beast here is depression specifically, I intend it as a general metaphor for Going Through It so I hope this resonates with other people saved by escapism too, and that whatever you're going through you are able to find the strength to get through. Even if you need some help from your special friends on the screen or in the pages.
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I can't seem to remember when it started, the feeling of never being fully there. No one will ever know me for who I really am, so long as I keep changing my emotions. I'll cry and I'll laugh and I'll scream, but is it really something worth remembering? You look at me now and think I'm good for nothing, and perhaps maybe you're right. But so long as I keep these feelings hidden, you'll never see what's underneath, and one day, they will all disappear once I've finally become the perfect blank slate for you to decide what face I'll make next-- because after all, you've never seen me as an actual human.
I am just someone playing the role of a friend to you.
That's all there is to it even if it's a lie.
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NOTHINGS NEW (vent)
Please spare me in dignity, won’t you please give some decency
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a little personal response / tribute to "here's the life i've always longed for" by Anna Haifisch. the original means so much to me, and even though it's hard, I feel like every day i'm making more steps toward finally being on the other side of that fence <:)
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It took me too long to realize that not all the world is my enemy
[ID: A comic done mostly in black and white. A hound with a broken chain around its neck flees a cage and runs into two reaching hands. The hound bites one hand, drawing blood. Narration says, "When I fled my cage / I bit the hands that took me in / Because the only hand I'd ever known / was a bad one."
The hands, now with fresh bite marks, still reach out gently to the hound. ""We're not him." they said / and I knew what they meant / but I didn't understand."
Floating in white space: "Now I understand / but the damage is done."
A person enters a door, rolling a suitcase, saying "Hi" to two people on a couch, who look up from their newspapers and phones to say "Hey" and "Hi" back. The shadow of the person who entered the room stretches out before them-- a hound's, not a person's. Narration: "I'm so sorry / I couldn't help it / I couldn't help myself."
We see the hands of the people on the couch. Both have faded bite marks on them. "I was so blind, I forgot / that not all hands are made of iron." End ID]
(ID by @princess-of-purple-prose)
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