Method to Madness

It's been a crazy past couple of days; work's been kicking my ass, covering shifts and hitting doubles consecutively, it'd gotten to the point where I was struggling to make time to work on Issue Two. But thankfully, I've got the day off tomorrow, and I plan to fully utilize that day being productive and catching up on what I need to.

Be that as it may, having pushed myself to such extremes at work has most certainly aided in accomplishing the second most important thing that's supposed to happen this year:

Issue One has been purchased; prints are on the way!!

Fuckin A right I gotta tell you, it feels damn good, but what'll obliterate that particular feeling is just holding on to that first print...

Salivating; I am.

The details regarding where to pick up a copy, who gets one mailed to them, or where to grab it online will all come about when they get to me door step.

 That was really all I wanted to talk about, but then this happened lol (you don't have to read all of that shit below, but I'd appreciate it no doubt):

Small tangent, if I may...
I was speaking with a friend of mine the other night, kinda wanted to put some thoughts I've had rummaging in my brain out on the table and get her insight on some..well, most of those topics. Nothing crazy really, just some fears I've had about where I am in life, where I'm going; shit I've done, shit I'm doing, my family, myself; what's the outcome gonna be? What am I to make of it all, such and so on.

A small part of me has a foreboding fear that choosing comics as the mainstay representation of my 80 thousand dollar receipt for drawing well was a bad idea, another part of me fears that in the nearing four years since graduation, my inability to land a field related job and the ever growing time frame of not having enough experience has set me back considerably compared to those that have. Needless to say, I'm 25, and I'm actually scared that I've fucked up some how.

Now before I get a swarm of "oh grow up" or "stop being such a pessimist", or "fuck you black man" from anyone, I'd like to point out that I know 25 is still young, I've plenty of time still to make something good happen, and work that much harder to get what I want out of life. The biggest... how to put this eloquently... lie? I think I've come to realize is that the emergence of adulthood can be represented as, let's say, an oar. This oar is handed to you by a faceless individual, let's call it society. Once you're handed this oar, you're pointed in the direction of a raft that has been "shaped" by the person you are, and ultimately your decision to accept or decline college. If you chose to go to college, your raft gets the works, a full shine job, sturdier frame and such. However, if you don't go to college, said raft may not be as strong, or just dingy looking.

You're confronted, immediately, by two choices that will, or ought to "define" what your outcome in life will/may be. So of course, naive little 17 year old kid accepts that "hey, obviously I don't want to get caught with my pants down in a shitty raft, better go to college". And so it begins, into the raft you go, and on your way, perhaps not deliberately but most certainly ignorantly oblivious to two of the most important questions that should've been asked prior to boarding your chosen raft: what type of waters should I expect, and can this oar actually steer me without breaking?

But how are you to know this? Who's there to warn you? Your parents? Your teachers?

Is it one's own fault for not applying themselves hard enough? Can society and its economical stand point really be blamed? Should it? Perhaps one's skill just really isn't up to par to what the industry demands of you, and then what? Work harder while doubly earning your independence badges? Two jobs, maybe three just to take the edge off?  Fight to win, fight to live? Be better, be smarter, be more adventurous? Take on everything, compromise nothing? Live at home, if you're so fortunate to have one to go back to? Live on your own? Do you put your whims aside and see to another's dream coming true? Create or be apart of a collective and build something together? Fight on your own terms and see to your own success? Push your limits? Break them if need be? What are they? What breaks them? Become susceptible to influences or create your own path? How do you win? How can you win? Do you even bother wining? Is survival enough? Is survival the only thing that matters? Is survival overrated? Are you capable? What defines your capabilities?  What are your standards? Are you driven to uphold them? Can they be sacrificed? Who the fuck are you? Why are you doing this? What possible, overwhelmingly self absorbed purpose could you ever bring forth to us all? To everything? To everyone? And for fuck sakes... you actually intend to father children?

I'll stop for the sake of losing my point.

I want to do something with my life that not only provides a means of inspiration to others, but gives me a chance to bring... I don't know, something to the proverbial table. But can I really expect to provide "the" life for my offspring if I can't even control my own? Coming here from another country has proved, time and again, to be extremely daunting, and no, I don't mean overcoming fears, stereotypes (pertinent though they may be), or even adjusting to new cultures. No, it's the life support that so many of my US natives have that I severely lack: I have no cushion. My failure, here and now, outlines my own doomed future, and with what little family I have and cherish, there is no net to fall back on, and that scares me.

I go to work, and come home and draw; rinse and repeat. Pretty easy for a single male with no responsibilities beyond personal amenities, but for how long? I don't want to be 29 and still have this conversation, fuck I didn't want to be 25 and still have this conversation but I figured, fuck I just graduated, time to pay some dues, kick down a few doors and whatever. Shit got real, and I know it gets worse, I just don't know when or how.

I've chosen to create a comic series on my own because finding help is hard without paying someone, and having to rely on others often leads to failure, first hand witnessed accounts mind you. Why does it have to be that way? As much as I wish it didn't, it does, and well, Issue One is all I have to say about that. But there's a lot of this I can't handle alone, and fooey on me for not being smarter with the time I had with someone beside me.

After I blabbed her ear off, my friend wrapped up with really only one possible next step that ought to alleviate, or even substantially fix everything; start over, move to a place that can better your chances and start over.

I've lived in Florida since I came to this country in 97, 16 bloody years ago.

It is perhaps indeed time that notion becomes a higher priority than I realize.