I did these two horrific vulgar sequences and then got 100$ for a 4 page comic, and ran away crying midway, with no way to pay them back.
at first i thought i was just going to wash away the memories with drugs, but the people i showed the art, their emotional trust in me was mortally scarred, and that’s when the trauma set in.
Since I’m dead inside and constantly need to justify my own reason for living, i’m going to be like a transsexual airforce pilot. Do some more of the vulgar unlovable stuff maybe, but do it to save the hearts of a group that does not deserve to be ostracized like I do.
I think Explosive ordinance disposal isn’t a good idea with my wiry nervres, death in the air is less frightening, because its less random.