a saint is chasing a snake


Massive thunderstorms last night. They were rather sudden and lasted very briefly. Lighting hit very close to the house and it was terrifying. Storms like that are something absolutely beautiful but absolutely fear-inspiring. Strange, yet wonderful paradox. Before that I had some wonderful dreams, after the storm, not so much. I hate how dreams play into my anxieties and make them worse. I think this weekend will make things a lot better and I think this next week with moving and everything, I will have a lot to occupy my mind.

To the right is the draft for the first panel of my narrative. I’m happy with the draft. I am happy with the first few lines of the narrative as well. I can’t tell whether this narrative just proves I am a cheesy, hopeless romantic or that I want to go deeper into what love really means? Probably just the former. Shit. I’m in love and it’s the kind that’s sort of out of left-field or rather, like standing up and hitting my head on something I had no idea that was there. Not that love is detrimental or anything. Just unexpected.

New room mate seems to be cool. I mean, he’s much older than I am but I think he’s going to be a good guy to live with. He told me that the lease doesn’t begin until September, so I wonder if I’ll get a free month of rent out of the situation. I hope so. Free stuff is awesome. Time to go back to drawing and not doing so much work.

Considering I am not how good of service I am going to get down in Northfield, here is the first panel, without the story caption: “The man on the moon met a boy from the stars.” This is probably one of the most autobiographical drawings I’ve drawn as well as probably one of the gayest. Enjoy.


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