My brain feels weird

O how on Earth did I end back on this thing? My brain keeps racing forward and back, and instead of these dumb internal monologues slowing down, they only appear to be accelerating at, unfortunately, a not very alarming rate. They just make me excited and I continue to talk to myself even more. Sometimes in public.

I thought I got through the whole, 'what the fuck' am I doing with myself? Am I? I don't know. I don't know what's enough anymore and what isn't. I have no fucking clue what I'm doing with myself. Have I grown? Maybe a little. But, I'm desperate for love, almost to the point where anything is enough, and then I go back to hating myself.

What is this? Comics is enough. Isn't it? I feel so satisfied every time I complete a project. I see how slowly, but steadily I'm improving in terms of color theory and anatomy, dialogue and plot. I've accomplished so much and will continue to, but I think what I want most is to share that with someone. Someone who will love BUT also hate everything I do. Push me and force me into the potential that I know I have. Sure, I could easily do that myself, but I'm lazy. And lonely. And, well, let's be honest here: horny as fuck.

What have I become?