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I’m addressing a topic that just the thought of it makes my skin burn and my blood boil. It’s about abortion so if you don’t like don’t read. Enjoy this visual of the future i drew if you keep turning a blind eye. But also, if you can’t give birth whatever you have to say doesn’t matter so please gtfo.

First off, I am of the belief “My body, my choice.” Women have been following the orders of men since the dawn of time and quite frankly I’m sick of it. We get underpaid, talked down to, silenced, and all while the world boasts about coming into an era of equality. I want to make it very clear that i am pro abortion, pro choice, pro you don’t have to take care of it so your opinion is automatically irrelevant. 

When you really think about it, the people who are determining what women should do with their bodies are old white men who have NEVER and WILL NEVER know the pain of having to give birth to a child. Let alone what it feels like to have people constantly breathing down their neck just because they were born the wrong or “inferior” gender. But I digress, that’s not the biggest issue I’m trying to address. 

What really bothers me is that this is freaking 2021 and women still can’t have a say in what happens to their body. But you know what, i say go ahead and let the anti abortion laws be put into place. Lets go ahead and toss out the bigger picture like the circumstances of how it came to be yeah? It doesn’t matter that its a product of incest, rape, drunken hook up, could grow up to be homeless because it will age out of the foster system due to custody rights being relinquished from birth parents because they were incapable of taking care of them because the government really said, “We’ll force you to have this baby even though you can provide it with nothing. Then, look down on you for being a terrible parent all the while raising the cost of living to make it impossible to have any good thing. Oh and while we’re at it let’s continue to broadcast the adoption of a baby in need but make the process terrible to get through because we love to make the American Dream complicated.”

Oh, but don’t get me started on those anti abortion protesters at the clinics. The ones with posters saying “Babies are killed here!” Like, excuse me? Are you going to take care of this child? Raise it as your own among your three children and find time to give it equal love and attention? Oh you’re not? You just want to judge me because I’m doing what’s best for the baby and it doesn’t even know. 

No, you’re right, it makes perfect sense to bring a child into a world teeming with chaos filled with racism and sexism and no good dirty bad people who want to harm them from day one. Oh and let’s not forget the expenses of living because everyone wants to make money off you. Expensive diapers, food, clothes, accessories. Oh of course, can’t forget the crap school systems and the endless pressure of having to do better than the generation before. Wait what? You said it’s not like that for everyone? Of course! How could I forget that the world is just ready and waiting to serve them everything they need on a silver platter at no cost! Affordable insurance for everything, life skills like how to do taxes, pay back debt easily, find healthy coping mechanisms for depression, earn a degree so you can make something of yourself. It all makes perfect sense. 

So yes, keeping all that in mind I think it’s a wonderful idea to force women to carry children they can’t afford to take care of or just plain don’t want despite the circumstances. Because that will make the baby’s life easier. Lets not even delve into the risks of carrying or the permanent side effects of having a baby. 

But the biggest thing that truly makes me mad is that, what happens to the little girls of the world? The ones forced down with their screams silenced. The ones who have to endure the unwanted touches of family, friends, and strangers. Wait never mind, they don’t matter. Their opinions don’t matter. 

I mean I could only imagine that a man traumatizing  a little girl for the sake of his pleasure is a real engine starter for him, but add to the fact she has to forever harbor that trauma and keep a permanent reminder of him for the rest of her life? Raising it and loving it and all with the possible help and intervention of that same man who hurt her? Truly the greatest plan ever. Oh you’d make an exception for her? Well what about the millions of other women experiencing the same thing? They don’t matter either apparently. 

I say all this to say that until we as a world are making noticeable leaps and bounds to better the life of everyone around us your opinion on what women want to do in their private life is absolutely without a doubt unheard and should be ignored unless it’s going to better that woman’s life in ways she never imagined. You don’t have money to put in her hand immediately to fund the entire process of raising a baby until it turns 18. So please exit stage left and don’t say another thing. I said what I said.


Dear School

I’m gonna post a letter my classmate wrote. Her blog may be familiar as she is the author behind the spider story that i posted a while back. Please check out her work!

Dear School, 

I have nothing left to give you. I’ve loved you greatly. I’ve fought to get to you. I had to speak to so many people to find you and finally hold you. But now it’s finals season and it’s making our relationship rocky. We’ve had some really good times. I’ve learned a lot from you and really enjoyed it. You’ve taught me so much, so many things I would not have learned on my own. For that I am grateful. I am grateful for all the people I have met through you. All the “free” food and rooming you provided me.

With the good there’s also been the bad. You’re so time consuming and stressful. Sometimes I want to just hang out with my friends but you’re always lurking. You’ve never been able to give me my own space and I think that’s something you should work on. You are stressful. Sometimes you ask for nothing at all which keeps me concerned because there are times where you ask for so much! I can’t relax because you always keep me on my toes. Parts of you is really unorganized and I think you should really try to keep that in check. If you were more organized and consistent maybe I would have been able to stay longer. But alas your inconsistency is too stressful and confusing! 

You need to work on your cooking skills. I’m grateful that you provided me with food but you could do much better. Try looking up recipes or watching a few YouTube videos so you can brush up on your skills. I’m sure the next person will appreciate that. 

You giving me a curfew is kind of pushing it. Do I want to be out really late? No not really, I’m usually in bed by 11… but I’d like the option to be! Not letting me be out late is really suffocating and I feel like you should really work on that. For these reasons I’m going to have to leave you school. Sadly this seems to be a toxic relationship and I’ll see you again in August… 


This blog post belongs to a very funny and talented classmate of mine. She details in the post below an encounter she had and honestly i have never related so hard to a story before. In fact I’ve had an experience similar to this. So, i present to you Thoughts of Key. Please check out her blog! She has so much to say and it’s all intriguing!

Thoughts Of Key

What is one of your biggest fears?

My manager asked me this question and I couldn’t really come up with anything. He said he was afraid of spiders and I agreed with him but I did not realize the magnitude of my fear of spiders in that moment. I don’t like bugs of any kind but I will kill basically anything other than beetles and spiders. I might kill a daddy long leg but only if it’s smaller than a penny. Growing up I always had my brothers kill spiders for me so going to college meant that I had to kill my own spiders (or find someone else to). In the freshman dorm I did not find many spiders and if I did they were really tiny and I have no problem killing them. But the spiders in the upperclassmen dorm!!!??? HUGE!!! Me and my roommate have stood the…

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Why The Moon Disappears

Earlier in the semester my teacher had us do an assignment. We had to create an animated feature that told a made up story about anything we wanted. I think it had something to with fables or some other thing like that. Now, me being the creative type and loving to give myself extra work to do because i just love to stress myself out, i created a 600 page Flip-A-Clip animation about why i think the moon disappears. The worst part? Those 600+ pages only added up to about 2 minutes or so. Anyway, as the semester winds down i’m gonna share whatever semi interesting works i can find from class. So, without further ado, enjoy reading the story. Also, i’m posting the link so you can watch my first ever animatic.

Why The Moon Disappears:

Up in the sky when the sun has long since gone to bed there is a lesser light called the moon. The moon would sit for hours, lonely and without a friend. He would look into the homes of the sleeping villagers over which he guarded but not a sound was made. But all that changed one night.

There was a little girl with eyes that shined like the stars and a smile as bright as the sun. She was so beautiful that even the sun envied her, and the moon, well the moon adored her. Every night she would look up in the sky and say her prayers and hoped her wishes didn’t fall on deaf ears.

The moon listened long and hard to every request, every question, every song, every praise that spilled from her lips. She would talk to the moon for hours on end and sometimes what the girl would say brought tears to moons eyes.

One night the little girl didn’t come to visit the moon. The moon searched high and low near and far for the little girl but she was nowhere in sight. He waited and waited night after night for that little girl to come back to talk to him and cure him of his loneliness. Finally, a voice called out to him. But it was not the little girl’s voice.

An older woman that the moon recognized from the village who always had a warm and gentle smile on her face approached the window the little girl had sat at when she talked to the moon. When the woman raised her face to the moon there was no gentle smile.

With a grieving heart the woman told the moon what had happened to the little girl. She had died. All those prayers, all those songs, all those wishes that the little girl whispered to the moon were for her to get better.

The moon heaved a great sigh and thousands of stars fell that night as the moon cried in anguish at the loss of his only friend.

Now, when the moon disappears once a month he has gone to visit the grave of the little girl where he sings songs, and makes wishes, and prays prayers for the little girl.


So, for my second to last assignment of the semester i had to do a poem. A sonnet to be exact. Now, doing this sonnet really made me think about how i write poetry. When i write poetry i just go with the flow. I don’t let anything hinder me and i let my creative juices take me where i need to be. I am simply a tool used to express what needs to be let out. Doing this sonnet was one of the most challenging assignments i have had to do in the class. The fact that it doesn’t even have a title should express how challenging it was.

I know what you’re thinking. “Writing a sonnet was hard for you?” and to that i say yes, yes it was. Mainly because i had to follow a pattern, and rhyme scheme and usually when i write poetry if at all, (because lets face it I’m more of a short story kind of gal) i do what i want how i want. Creative writing doesn’t really follow rules and i found myself struggling not only to come up with a theme, but also lines that made sense. And honestly. after looking at my work, i’m not sure i even did that properly. In fact, i just re-read it and i cringed so hard. Definitely not my best work. But, i turned it in and will now present it for you to judge. Fair warning, i’m not 100% sure what i was even talking about, let alone trying to convey, so don’t get lost trying to find the deeper meaning, because i don’t think there is one. But, if you find something interesting do share it with me.

In the middle of the night voices ring 

The silence in now broken and it’s clear

If i listen closely i hear them sing

They tell me there is nothing left to fear

There’s a void in the middle, there’s a tear

They venture to the center i say stay

I plead and scream about how it’s not fair

They tell me that they can no longer play 

I glance into the face of a small boy

He forms the words and says he has to go

He gingerly picks up his favorite toy

In a loud voice i shout out the word no

The voices gather and they leave a thought 

I dwell on all the things that they have taught

Couldn’t Wait

I have a confession. I couldn’t wait till July to post the comic so i instead posted Chapter One last week Friday. This Friday i’m gonna post the first page of Chapter Two. My style still isn’t where i want it to be, the plot is moving slower than i can draw, and not a lot of people seem to like it. Granted, it is horror/thriller and i did only post it LAST WEEK but i feel like for all the waiting i have done over the past six years and six months i should be moving along faster than i am now.

It also sucks because i see lots of other comics that have great art styles and only two episodes and have like 9,000 subscribers to their comic. But what’s really shocking is that there are comics with great art styles and more episodes and only like 20 subscribers and like 1,000 views. I don’t get it. But hey, the saying goes, “If it was easy everyone would do it.” I should take this to heart. In any case, i’m leaving the link to my comic here so check it out and like, comment, subscribe to it! I’m also posting a picture i drew of Taz and Jack getting their line up mugshots done. It’s truly one of my favorite pieces.

Dear Future Self I Hope It’s Going Well

Dear Future Self,

I hope it’s going well. I imagine you are up to your eyeballs in work right now. You’re probably still growing your hair out to length you want it to be at if you haven’t had a big enough breakdown to warrant chopping it all off again. You’ve finished school no doubt and are probably headed towards that masters in art right about now. Hopefully your art style has improved to the point we’ve always wanted it to be at. That would be the most amazing thing ever.

Did you move out yet? Have you gotten that dog yet? I’m so tired of waiting. Have you figured out where to move too? Somewhere where it’s always sunny and warm i bet. You know, cause we hate the cold. How many comics have you done now? Playing At Being God should be done by now and you should be working on The Lazarus Code and that manga on the different stories of the bible because who wouldn’t want to read gruesome murders and betrayals from the bible?

Have we gotten any taller? Pfft yeah right. Good joke though. But seriously, how have we improved in our life? I have so many questions and expectations and i’m too excited and nervous to wait and i want to build a time machine just to see how it all works out. Anyway, whatever we end up doing, wherever we end up doing it it’s gonna be awesome, cause you’re awesome.


Past you


Today at work I was drawing as is my usual tradition when the flow is slow or the kids are occupied doing one thing or another with a different teacher. I usually man the coloring/drawing or playdough station and since nobody wanted to play with playdough some of the kids wanted to color. About 10 minutes into my drawing the kids start to look at my paper and watch me as I work. Now, this isnt unusual and often times they compliment me and are then motivated to draw themselves and that makes me feel good.

However, this time around one of the girls who as watching said, “Wow, how do you do that? I wish I could draw like you.” And honestly I was flattered and I usually am when the kids are in awe of us and want to be like us in a way because then I feel like I’m doing a good job as a teacher and I’m opening young minds to possibilities.

I offered to teach her because I love to pass along the knowledge and love of art to kids. She took a few turns drawing a eye I had showed her to do and seemed to be flustered and a bit angry at the fact that she couldnt get it right. Her sister who was watching on eagerly explained that she was a good artist to which the girl replied hastily that she wasn’t and compared herself to me. And that broke my heart.

It reminded me of my younger self and sometimes my current self, when I compare my art to other people and dont feel good enough even though I am. I explained to the girl that it would take practice and I would help her along in anyway I could if she wanted. That got a smile and we decided to trade picture for picture before she left. So I drew her a picture and she drew me one. We also talked about writing a book together where she would write the plot, I would draw the characters and another coworker of mine would color the sketches in. I’m actually really looking forward to doing that. So, here I will leave the picture from the girl who is a talented artist and can definently draw bodies and hands better than me.