Constant feeling of being a fuck up, a loser, a wannabe, a try too damn hard for the same damn lonely empty feeling every damn day. If not my Art its being fit, responsible, successful and having an identity that i can for at least two god damn moments a day really respect and be proud of. Never one too understand style or trend simply making things up from my over keen need to be the freaky observer......yes that's accurate I'm that guy in the cinema that stays to the end just watching people walking out, trying to see in them what the fuck I'm so fucking obviously missing.....I'm the cunt that makes excuses to himself for not really trying to be in with the crowd of so many festival goers....that wanker who can admit to himself " yeah i wouldn't mind doing that sorta stuff, friend stuff" but as id be in a constant judgement of myself and how and why I'm not as decent a human persona as so many around me i scare from this in self preservation of my very little amount of joy i can manege to squeeze from my love of seeing these observations as jokes on my own .....again laughing at myself for myself. I no matter how awesome i apparently am???? am made very rarely aware of this stuff and thus constantly becomes more convinced that the fault of my un-needed/wanted presence is that of my own for either being that smelly kid, that slow kid, that last to be picked kid, now 24 years old and that same alienated feeling is ever more my best bested friend than even my sketch pads and imaginary delusions. Or its due to this very form of thought put into words for all to see this morbid shit that no bright eyed "seize the fecking day" would be A grader, or never a lonely day in their effing lives fake wankers wish to see, because of how scared they are of its honesty and the very thought of this depressing dribble may cause a slight crack that brings their so carefully structured utter lie of joy crashing to their feet.......i say fuck you. i wanna be sad i am sad, i am advised to write it down and as someone who tries hard to show his very mortal very human hatred and nastiness that is... yes perhaps only ever seen in the minds eye but its the true darkness, the being a real person that id expect every bugger to hide. those who delight in showing it are the people known for stating/thinking "good guys finish last" and also, more so as a dreaming artist and a wannabe story teller i say whats to be written is to be read. so yeah I'm sorry if this is a statement of the sorts you could have done without reading but if you really didn't wanna read it you didn't have too you coulda stopped at "being a fuck up". And to be perfectly honest my self loathing sense of self torture would be part of my reasoning to allow anyone to see this and view me as even more a loser, the other part is simply i don't really expect anyone to read all through this any time very soon, as i fail in seeing that very many people could give a shit enough to want too. So i am very likely to be talking/writing to myself anyhow.........hmmmph.
That does sorta help.
Thanks goes out to miss Becci Herring for allowing me to us her as a muse in this Life drawing version of Mystique. All digital painting that i wanted to do mostly out of need to do some life drawing with power and as i browsed and took tips from Adam Hughes work on the pin up like girls he tends to do for DC, i got wanting to have a go myself. And as i originally got doodling girls and snooping his stuff out of a need to practice and do some pin up girls i have the Black and White version as just a bad as lass and not a copyrighted Marvel character. if it interests anyone i may also use that one as a T-shirt design.
