I have a lot on my mind and not a lot to do so it’s going to come out, all of it, and then, then, it may begin to make a sort of sense.
Oh, hey, maybe I should have mentioned that my friends are retarded douchebags.
These shoes are Mr Silly’s shoes, Scott.
I’m 25 and just trying to understand women. Obviously, that is a process that never ends.
I remember talking to someone who is vegan. At the time, I would hear a lot of outrageous claims from vegans about the good that being a vegan can do for you, for your health and whatnot. I remember someone once told me vegans don’t sweat, so I started my mind going.
My readership seems to be the sensitive people, for the most part. Then there are the occasional fans who are like, “Ah, video games!”
I’m sometimes sort of in touch with the readership, and they seem to have perceptive questions, for the most part.
I used to be really influenced by Brian Bendis, back in his indie days. But I guess I try to tone that down.
I don’t want to spend my entire life drawing talking heads. It seems like a waste of everyone’s time.
Writing music is sort of my hobby, but it’s been falling off more and more. Doing comic books takes up my entire life.
Each new book that comes out kind of pulls up the old ones a little bit.
There are things we can’t change, and we just have to accept that. And maybe that’s some kind of grace.
Dude... Things never were the same. Change is... It’s what we get. I guess that’s my problem – I’m always trying to beat the clock; outrun the universe... Like nothing can change me, as long as I change first. I feel like I’m in this river, just getting swept along... And if I hold on to anyone, if I’m holding on for dear life, I’m not getting anywhere. I’m stuck... I never wanted to get stuck.
Maybe all these desperate clashing feelings I’m feeling are just random brain activity, maybe I’m just delusional. But there are things that I miss, and things that I feel like I should be seeing and feeling every time I turn around, and I just keep turning and turning and turning, and there’s nothing.
Don’t listen to her, Scott. She notices things.
You’re not a monster. You’re a mirror.
What happened after my best friend left is that I couldn’t make friends anymore, or I could make them but I couldn’t enjoy them, I couldn’t relate to them.
What kind of idiot would knowingly date a girl named Knives?
Scott! If we had a band, we would be cool. Even if we sucked! We would transcend our class status or whatever, and become automatically cool.
Scott, you are the salt of the earth. Oh, I’m sorry, excuse me. I meant scum of the earth.
I was like this totally serious kid, and this totally angsty teenager. I probably only smiled and laughed when I was deluded into thinking it would make some jerk like me.