as a busy man i rarely get to experience a day. i'm pretty sure the last 3 months happened but i have no evidence. work just happens, it doesn't seem to mean anything or kill me so i just move on. creatively, i'm making some fucking fantastic art. or just believing my own hype. my comic strip is on cruise control and is headed for a second publication (watch out rhode island!). and then i sleep. or pretend to.
the only moments that feel real are doused in alcohol.
all this while feeling like a predator. i want to grab the art girl by her dreads & smell her cigarette stained body. i crave the soft skin of the virgin's upper arms, i want feel them on my cheek and bite them.
soon i'll have the time for this.
corruption.
evil.
-The JB
the only moments that feel real are doused in alcohol.
all this while feeling like a predator. i want to grab the art girl by her dreads & smell her cigarette stained body. i crave the soft skin of the virgin's upper arms, i want feel them on my cheek and bite them.
soon i'll have the time for this.
corruption.
evil.
-The JB
So...Hey