Hard Life writing comics. at young age.
Dis day, I awaken. I have missed the church. The church was something I was willing to go to, but it never clearly strikes me of why-it always never felt right for which I remembered. Graphic Design is not special when it is just text and images and if anyone says to you that this is of rocket science-it is not. Such of the fact of the depiction of the church leader and his wife as a happy couple indeed. They are not. The wife has not come to church and I find busy things to keep me occupied. But when it became revealed the extent that to which he cheated and had a child and only did through severe rumor did I ever find to my shock and look like a eventual fool-in that particular moment. Everything that had ever happened to me made sense and all of it was the fault of this pastor whom I put my trust in even though it suited me not to, but you have to give people their chances. This has shaken me and ever since that night I discovered and it turned to be true and yet the pastor would not asolve his inquiry of sin to the church populace. I realized what a farce religion is. He looks happy and strong in his marriage in depiction but in real life-he is a sad fool for what he even stands for. Much of which I can say. I cannot support the religion of this world. It is very flawed and in this graphic designer era, were pictures and text make you look strong-you are not. You can be of man, but when of weasel it is not good deed to be running around ordering people and directing people to live their lives when you do not even experience what they do and you live a better life because of all the people you deceive.
The pastors of this era are nothing more than demons and I will renounce this, they drip with the air of false hood and think they are the new generation and they are good in the future. But all their philosophy about god, only serves theirselves and does nothing for people but ever in bitters the populace of which they serve and teach them that all these actions are just for show and they really have nothing to offer anyone indeed. I never believed in the church and thus, ever since this event I see no need for the church. All it ever does is make one person rich. One book estates that church is to make the world better for a group of people but in modern sense no church does this at all. If charity it is simple puritan belief of superiority. And frankly, church seeks to never estate a better opinion of life and one that it is not constrictive of personal and political freedoms to choose a life or political stance. The churches do next to nothing to add to America but segregation and hate and are remnant of the past that never helps.
I say that writing after the Breakthrough has been hard. I once collapsed at my desk trying to recount things as they were but surely I could not just take the impact of how dark things truly were back then and how I refused their darkness with bravery and victory and faith in the america virtues. It seemed in 2008, to many hope in America was repaid with the election of Obama. But in my eyes, just shows how separated the old are from the young and yet not even know of the struggles of the young. Racism may exist, but it is ever worse. And shows it is just a disease of thinking that has been brought on and out by a long history of abuse and I for one only saw more abuse ever coming and had enough. I took my stance with the idea database and that took two years to even do. I tried to stop at 2012 and then 2013 and then realized I had nothing to stop. But fear of being lynched as some character for this sensationalized society and I'd be damned if I support the lynchpin of sin. People might say Obama this and Obama, that. I never really fucking cared for he could never solve the issues and never could be the answer everyone wished.
He could not solve-why people were after me for having the talent of drawing and writing.
Also why no one could ever support me truly in learning other subjects because I usually put my craft over those indeed. Why I was believed to be an adult in yet a kid format. Just an item to learn be tortured and abused by different so many parties. Using this sensationalized mall society to keep me going in which I ever forced the people in which I liked in memory of better years and times were people were not after me with these negative images so furiously.
I hits me when I awaken this morning of Sunday and find that I think of this girl called Irene in which I have known of and socialized around of since 2005. Yet when in college and at the same college it happens-we cannot get along. She one day looks at me with venomous hate. I am just drawing trying to recover and she will not let me be until I return the same venomous hate and then she smiles up the stares. Everybody hates me. By Chainsmokers is an ideal in which I find applying to her and her breed of people. Only content with hate. A gentle hatred. That shears you in the middle of conversation in class in free time, shears you in the middle of class ever higher in the middle of class in which is not free time and is actually graphic design learning time. Then hits you in the face when are verbally assaulted in class with her evil look reigning down on you and then this same look but worsened in age in this other class. Some people just like her are too common and too many because why-poor catholic church and all else even baptist only ever teach hate not flexibility nor understanding regardless of whatever the leader of the flock says. The church is the anti christ of anything of creativity and even if the bible was a work of creativity in which people actually had to be enlightened enough to write words of wisdom or words at all- they made the wrong choice in how they choose to tell the tale and made it full of bias. Instead of continuing the cycle of a Gentle Hatred. It is time to revoke Gentle Hatred from our everyday lives. A stranger has no manner to even ever look at you like an enemy-like trash and talk crap about you. A stranger has nothing to offer but common courtesy. And if a stranger ever argues-they are an enemy. Those who never argue. Those who never fight. Your every being and your every might are not strangers at all. So do not treat them as strangers and continue this decade or 13 year old tradition of hatred. As it was the 13th day not but 3 days ago.
I wake up and realize reaching the top level, the bitch after all this fucking time is ever only content with hearing and seeing that I have hatred for her as I make a face just to get the bastard away from me. I may never hate the hoe truly. But in that instant of which she smiled when I made a face so angry to please her and so she would not glare at me like an animal. I snapped and came to an epiphany. Why should I ever permit myself to be hate ungodly by these people who find it so ever convenient to hate and not to understand and not to blame. Blame for which is resorted. Not of me but those of a gentle hatred as well as match these particular people of another gentle hatred. I fucking think not. It has been going on too long where I meet this girl called Irene every damn time that bastard always looking down on me and we never say anything really and despise me as an individual while she laughs and talks about cute things...and only to those who ever fit in her latino group and those only who appear to be of her type. And all the while. For as long as in sixth grade when I had that crush on her that day to possibly the not ever ascertain day when it ended, every time and every opportunity in which I could ever speak to her, the one thing of her that is the most turn off and you become embarrassed of such feelings. Is that she believes that she is right about people to the very fucking end and bashes your fucking head into rocks all of which ever time and everytime there is a chance. You just want to be free of this psychopathic monster. This racist who kills you every time you come to commit ever such a feeling in your heart and you are conveniently around to be a fucking kick sack. A fucking kick sack. This fucking beautiful person who is of fruit loops in her last name is just a racist who ever time takes people who are peaceful for advantage and entraps them in guilt and in slavery for ever being theirselves and forever bashes them over the head each time they realize that there could have been a future with them. Or could be a future with them at every point. But because they are so important on their little latin culture of this tribe and that tribe and would rather fucking speak to someone white who is also racist before they ever speak to anyone ever who is black or of that background. That their church and family is so important they can never grow emotionally and never realize that of nature of people as they are and not how they seek them to be.
In my youth, not ever once writing about this because the time and opportunity to truly write about these things in the avarice of youth is limited was the truest struggle and I was completely bastardized and helpless to ever say anything to this bitch. And when we graduated or rather I should say I did, five years ago- my grandest ideal was never having to be placed, forced or sat in a room with that hoe. Yet in 2016, the grandest nightmare became true when I saw her blonde hair siting next to me.
I wanted to cry. Because that bitch was so self important and so fucking child like still it gave me the creeps of how poor in her development she truly was based off of what she would believe in her little community and possibly church and how that I was no so different even though I refused the church for as long as the new pastor had ever come in which was the majority of waking life. That I was trapped in this place for niggers. This place were they can be educated to vote for the man or woman who was going to give them their freedom. But no. No more, ever so more. I became focused on getting free of my life situation(s) or rather to say is that constantly people focusing their energies in projecting ideas about me and not who I truly am.
Only now can I say that I will never be constrained to see one grain and one grain true or trapped in a house like that bitch, Irene. I will be free because I will seek to resort ideas without constraint even if constrained by forces lurking in their view.
I thought recently prior to this happening of the staircase, that I found an individual who was like Irene but I had only fallen in love with an image of a person who never existed and frankly enough- it was never my fault. But the systems of this world which make people and meeting good people not easy and not without consequence. And making them not easy is that they can never truly be said to have the societal functions in which a true human has and like a child only depends on their family to continue to support the myth that they even know humanity when they separate people by color and act like god himself. I akin related this in my troubled times to this pop culture 90s tv theme but yea, that is a smaller part of this. And rather that people acting as if human social when they are not- is a real life problem that we need to never be bothered with in every day lives. There is such a thing as social literacy and even a person who never reads or writes can have a social literacy so much that they can survive alone on social meaning and never on reading nor writing.
I am tried. When I saw that Irene go up the staircase, a timer happened and I remembered the bitter past and thus I became influenced I could no longer run and wrote of the breakthrough. In which I struggled to write but broke down character and series uncompleted by time and time until I had done them all of which of written literacy of the 2008 to at least 2009 era. I remember there are more series I've written afterwards like Eiroquers and others featured again in the fall 2013 era but these are vital stories that shape what happened in the past and especially with girls like Irene. But however many girls in the past were of little of importance but there are none as harsh as Irene because I do not still go to school with them on happenstance and with Irene everything happened on happenstance. As she glared these hideous looks at me and I thought I would be nice and be friendly since we went to school together for forever out of feels of nostalgia. But I slowly remembered and as she turned and I paused in my work dumbfounded and angry after all this time, she would choose to be a waster instead of realizing the benefit of friendship especially since we were older-she could not overcome the past, the past was solid concrete recent history. And to be concurrent- I never did a damn thing to receive the nasty looks and hatred she gave me. I was so angry- I did not even want to be there for what happened previously at that school. I glared at her as she turned several times to look at me. Angrily, I glared at her just to get her off my tale and wondered if it would work and she would stop ruining my scene and space and in all honesty hopes of getting along with others in the area. But. No. As she smiled I felt no relieve or relief, she just acknowledged what I knew of this place all along, "Everybody Hates Me." I should not be rushing to just draw and write so I can reach a place were I laugh at people who cower to mock me so viably. So normally and such without remorse and normalcy that I hide away from these bastards by avoiding the place that they flock. "just want the shit to end".
I seek a higher purpose, yet they only never ever seek a higher mind or being and sully the architecture of these buildings with their mediocrity and romantics ongoing to crap. She smiles and it haunts me, reminding me that the people of Irene are the majority and anyone like me is unwelcomed and shot short if they are real and unwittingly trusting of such facsimiles. I wish it to end. And when I believe it to end, her smile signals that the work is not done. I will never awake this person and never shall have to. I am only human and I refuse to be made a demon in which I came to learn. I do not want to be harassed anymore by supposed peers and will no longer tolerate it. And I will have you know if you are an Irene you are not the winner. But a contributor to the decay of society and my freedom of speech will not be restricted for the sum of guns. It was a hard life but no longer it has to be.
Guns, are not so important that people are killed and this shitty people do not give a damn so they can shot people like livestock. Its time to awaken and realize this is not the life nor America in which I want.
Yet, I awaken and ponder. She is only satisfied.
When I give a face of fury and in her alightenment.
I am angry. Truly and disgusted. That I ever have to raise
a hand to defend myself from this unfriendly spector that
keeps following me. This damned Irene.
She is happy knowing that I am forever the hated she has ever
seen and liked me as. A gentle hatred.
So sugary and sprinkly. So cyberpunk and 90s
yet sought to be a donut with a donut hole,
a bulleyes for breakthrough.
I need a breakthrough and I do not need to know why.
I do not know why. No why. No why,
you are truly and disgusted at me.
The bastard pastor did it.
He did. It.
So cultured and affirmed yet talk like an animal
about variety of yams and social inner norms
of a culture no one cares about so dearly it steps
over all others.
Who did it, who did it.
the bastard pastor did it, he did it. He did it.
He did it. This damned Irene.
You are a bulleyes donut and you're going red
always cornering me, I do not want to be dead.
I want to be free. I want to be free. I want to be free.
Of you!
I am angry and so truly angry true.
After all this time what do you go and do?
I need a breakthrough from a hard life of writing comics
and being stuck around you at a young age.
The pastors of this era are nothing more than demons and I will renounce this, they drip with the air of false hood and think they are the new generation and they are good in the future. But all their philosophy about god, only serves theirselves and does nothing for people but ever in bitters the populace of which they serve and teach them that all these actions are just for show and they really have nothing to offer anyone indeed. I never believed in the church and thus, ever since this event I see no need for the church. All it ever does is make one person rich. One book estates that church is to make the world better for a group of people but in modern sense no church does this at all. If charity it is simple puritan belief of superiority. And frankly, church seeks to never estate a better opinion of life and one that it is not constrictive of personal and political freedoms to choose a life or political stance. The churches do next to nothing to add to America but segregation and hate and are remnant of the past that never helps.
I say that writing after the Breakthrough has been hard. I once collapsed at my desk trying to recount things as they were but surely I could not just take the impact of how dark things truly were back then and how I refused their darkness with bravery and victory and faith in the america virtues. It seemed in 2008, to many hope in America was repaid with the election of Obama. But in my eyes, just shows how separated the old are from the young and yet not even know of the struggles of the young. Racism may exist, but it is ever worse. And shows it is just a disease of thinking that has been brought on and out by a long history of abuse and I for one only saw more abuse ever coming and had enough. I took my stance with the idea database and that took two years to even do. I tried to stop at 2012 and then 2013 and then realized I had nothing to stop. But fear of being lynched as some character for this sensationalized society and I'd be damned if I support the lynchpin of sin. People might say Obama this and Obama, that. I never really fucking cared for he could never solve the issues and never could be the answer everyone wished.
He could not solve-why people were after me for having the talent of drawing and writing.
Also why no one could ever support me truly in learning other subjects because I usually put my craft over those indeed. Why I was believed to be an adult in yet a kid format. Just an item to learn be tortured and abused by different so many parties. Using this sensationalized mall society to keep me going in which I ever forced the people in which I liked in memory of better years and times were people were not after me with these negative images so furiously.
I hits me when I awaken this morning of Sunday and find that I think of this girl called Irene in which I have known of and socialized around of since 2005. Yet when in college and at the same college it happens-we cannot get along. She one day looks at me with venomous hate. I am just drawing trying to recover and she will not let me be until I return the same venomous hate and then she smiles up the stares. Everybody hates me. By Chainsmokers is an ideal in which I find applying to her and her breed of people. Only content with hate. A gentle hatred. That shears you in the middle of conversation in class in free time, shears you in the middle of class ever higher in the middle of class in which is not free time and is actually graphic design learning time. Then hits you in the face when are verbally assaulted in class with her evil look reigning down on you and then this same look but worsened in age in this other class. Some people just like her are too common and too many because why-poor catholic church and all else even baptist only ever teach hate not flexibility nor understanding regardless of whatever the leader of the flock says. The church is the anti christ of anything of creativity and even if the bible was a work of creativity in which people actually had to be enlightened enough to write words of wisdom or words at all- they made the wrong choice in how they choose to tell the tale and made it full of bias. Instead of continuing the cycle of a Gentle Hatred. It is time to revoke Gentle Hatred from our everyday lives. A stranger has no manner to even ever look at you like an enemy-like trash and talk crap about you. A stranger has nothing to offer but common courtesy. And if a stranger ever argues-they are an enemy. Those who never argue. Those who never fight. Your every being and your every might are not strangers at all. So do not treat them as strangers and continue this decade or 13 year old tradition of hatred. As it was the 13th day not but 3 days ago.
I wake up and realize reaching the top level, the bitch after all this fucking time is ever only content with hearing and seeing that I have hatred for her as I make a face just to get the bastard away from me. I may never hate the hoe truly. But in that instant of which she smiled when I made a face so angry to please her and so she would not glare at me like an animal. I snapped and came to an epiphany. Why should I ever permit myself to be hate ungodly by these people who find it so ever convenient to hate and not to understand and not to blame. Blame for which is resorted. Not of me but those of a gentle hatred as well as match these particular people of another gentle hatred. I fucking think not. It has been going on too long where I meet this girl called Irene every damn time that bastard always looking down on me and we never say anything really and despise me as an individual while she laughs and talks about cute things...and only to those who ever fit in her latino group and those only who appear to be of her type. And all the while. For as long as in sixth grade when I had that crush on her that day to possibly the not ever ascertain day when it ended, every time and every opportunity in which I could ever speak to her, the one thing of her that is the most turn off and you become embarrassed of such feelings. Is that she believes that she is right about people to the very fucking end and bashes your fucking head into rocks all of which ever time and everytime there is a chance. You just want to be free of this psychopathic monster. This racist who kills you every time you come to commit ever such a feeling in your heart and you are conveniently around to be a fucking kick sack. A fucking kick sack. This fucking beautiful person who is of fruit loops in her last name is just a racist who ever time takes people who are peaceful for advantage and entraps them in guilt and in slavery for ever being theirselves and forever bashes them over the head each time they realize that there could have been a future with them. Or could be a future with them at every point. But because they are so important on their little latin culture of this tribe and that tribe and would rather fucking speak to someone white who is also racist before they ever speak to anyone ever who is black or of that background. That their church and family is so important they can never grow emotionally and never realize that of nature of people as they are and not how they seek them to be.
In my youth, not ever once writing about this because the time and opportunity to truly write about these things in the avarice of youth is limited was the truest struggle and I was completely bastardized and helpless to ever say anything to this bitch. And when we graduated or rather I should say I did, five years ago- my grandest ideal was never having to be placed, forced or sat in a room with that hoe. Yet in 2016, the grandest nightmare became true when I saw her blonde hair siting next to me.
I wanted to cry. Because that bitch was so self important and so fucking child like still it gave me the creeps of how poor in her development she truly was based off of what she would believe in her little community and possibly church and how that I was no so different even though I refused the church for as long as the new pastor had ever come in which was the majority of waking life. That I was trapped in this place for niggers. This place were they can be educated to vote for the man or woman who was going to give them their freedom. But no. No more, ever so more. I became focused on getting free of my life situation(s) or rather to say is that constantly people focusing their energies in projecting ideas about me and not who I truly am.
Only now can I say that I will never be constrained to see one grain and one grain true or trapped in a house like that bitch, Irene. I will be free because I will seek to resort ideas without constraint even if constrained by forces lurking in their view.
I thought recently prior to this happening of the staircase, that I found an individual who was like Irene but I had only fallen in love with an image of a person who never existed and frankly enough- it was never my fault. But the systems of this world which make people and meeting good people not easy and not without consequence. And making them not easy is that they can never truly be said to have the societal functions in which a true human has and like a child only depends on their family to continue to support the myth that they even know humanity when they separate people by color and act like god himself. I akin related this in my troubled times to this pop culture 90s tv theme but yea, that is a smaller part of this. And rather that people acting as if human social when they are not- is a real life problem that we need to never be bothered with in every day lives. There is such a thing as social literacy and even a person who never reads or writes can have a social literacy so much that they can survive alone on social meaning and never on reading nor writing.
I am tried. When I saw that Irene go up the staircase, a timer happened and I remembered the bitter past and thus I became influenced I could no longer run and wrote of the breakthrough. In which I struggled to write but broke down character and series uncompleted by time and time until I had done them all of which of written literacy of the 2008 to at least 2009 era. I remember there are more series I've written afterwards like Eiroquers and others featured again in the fall 2013 era but these are vital stories that shape what happened in the past and especially with girls like Irene. But however many girls in the past were of little of importance but there are none as harsh as Irene because I do not still go to school with them on happenstance and with Irene everything happened on happenstance. As she glared these hideous looks at me and I thought I would be nice and be friendly since we went to school together for forever out of feels of nostalgia. But I slowly remembered and as she turned and I paused in my work dumbfounded and angry after all this time, she would choose to be a waster instead of realizing the benefit of friendship especially since we were older-she could not overcome the past, the past was solid concrete recent history. And to be concurrent- I never did a damn thing to receive the nasty looks and hatred she gave me. I was so angry- I did not even want to be there for what happened previously at that school. I glared at her as she turned several times to look at me. Angrily, I glared at her just to get her off my tale and wondered if it would work and she would stop ruining my scene and space and in all honesty hopes of getting along with others in the area. But. No. As she smiled I felt no relieve or relief, she just acknowledged what I knew of this place all along, "Everybody Hates Me." I should not be rushing to just draw and write so I can reach a place were I laugh at people who cower to mock me so viably. So normally and such without remorse and normalcy that I hide away from these bastards by avoiding the place that they flock. "just want the shit to end".
I seek a higher purpose, yet they only never ever seek a higher mind or being and sully the architecture of these buildings with their mediocrity and romantics ongoing to crap. She smiles and it haunts me, reminding me that the people of Irene are the majority and anyone like me is unwelcomed and shot short if they are real and unwittingly trusting of such facsimiles. I wish it to end. And when I believe it to end, her smile signals that the work is not done. I will never awake this person and never shall have to. I am only human and I refuse to be made a demon in which I came to learn. I do not want to be harassed anymore by supposed peers and will no longer tolerate it. And I will have you know if you are an Irene you are not the winner. But a contributor to the decay of society and my freedom of speech will not be restricted for the sum of guns. It was a hard life but no longer it has to be.
Guns, are not so important that people are killed and this shitty people do not give a damn so they can shot people like livestock. Its time to awaken and realize this is not the life nor America in which I want.
Yet, I awaken and ponder. She is only satisfied.
When I give a face of fury and in her alightenment.
I am angry. Truly and disgusted. That I ever have to raise
a hand to defend myself from this unfriendly spector that
keeps following me. This damned Irene.
She is happy knowing that I am forever the hated she has ever
seen and liked me as. A gentle hatred.
So sugary and sprinkly. So cyberpunk and 90s
yet sought to be a donut with a donut hole,
a bulleyes for breakthrough.
I need a breakthrough and I do not need to know why.
I do not know why. No why. No why,
you are truly and disgusted at me.
The bastard pastor did it.
He did. It.
So cultured and affirmed yet talk like an animal
about variety of yams and social inner norms
of a culture no one cares about so dearly it steps
over all others.
Who did it, who did it.
the bastard pastor did it, he did it. He did it.
He did it. This damned Irene.
You are a bulleyes donut and you're going red
always cornering me, I do not want to be dead.
I want to be free. I want to be free. I want to be free.
Of you!
I am angry and so truly angry true.
After all this time what do you go and do?
I need a breakthrough from a hard life of writing comics
and being stuck around you at a young age.
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