There’s something inherently melancholy about the things that rattle and roll down the street in a light breeze on a Monday afternoon.

How do I tell you that you make me hurt in the worst and best ways,
That my fear for you is equaled only by my faith in you,
And that I’m as angry as I am blissful.
You complicate me as much as you simplify,
But to me you are as absolute as mountains, and the crisp blue of the sky.
Today roiling turmoil hides your stars but I’ve seen them,
Trust me, they’re there.

Trust me.

Isn’t it something that you’re still here, standing on two feet despite the press of it all?
Isn’t that something?
That you rose,
Dragged your sandbag body from the shelter of oblivion, and stood?
A choice was made and followed through - don’t take it lightly.

It will pass.
I tell myself.
It will pass and I’ll see your stars again.
I know they’re there.
I’ve seen them.

Pass your fingers between the valley of my ribs and speak directly into my heart, for I am there, and I listen, each drop of blood quickens for the breath to pass from between your lips and out.
I will take the air that spills with the palm of my hand and drink as though ambrosia were cupped there, and your breath would be in me, and your breath would be mine, and we would breathe together like the tide breathes over the sand and pulls the tiny grains out into the open sea, where they tumble, helpless but alive in the pulse of the wind and water.
Sink with me, to the dark places where secret creatures roam and there we shall remain, full of each other’s breath and the silence and the steady rhythm.

Put your hands over my ears and give me the ocean of your heart beat, and the calm silence of your storm.

I can’t breathe
When I think of the circle in which you’re caught, and the uncertainty of whether or not you’ll break it,
And if so,
In what way.
When the days are good, they’re the best.
But so many days in between are brick walls with answers that get me nowhere and hours of silence that make me wonder if you even think of me at all.

I know it’s bullshit,
I know, but.

It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.
If not now, then it will be, I’m here.
Tell me that you need me,
Tell me what you’re thinking that drags you down so deep I almost can’t see the color of your eyes.
Listen when I say that you can exact change,
That the scales respond to your shift in weight,
That the direction of the needle swings to your magnetic north -

It’s you.

You, the everything,
You the traveler,
You the man
You the child.

Learn with me how to navigate the uneven ground. I will be there if you lose your footing, not to catch you, but to step away to show you how much I believe you can regain it on your own.


Do you Know what is happening in Venezuela? This is what is happening. This is what has been happening during a week. The students have been protesting in a pacific way against the repressive and tyrant government that we have since 1999 (yes, 15 years living with insecurity, food and medicine shortages, deprivation of liberty, and media blackout) and what is the police and the army doing? Beating us, shooting us, and recently some students were condemned to jail for 13 years!! For what crime? For claiming justice and democracy. Please, share this post, the world needs to know.



Tags: sosvenezuela

Staring at my own hands and those of strangers, fingers drifting down abdomens and I’m teething with lonliness

Anonymous asked: $100 is a lot of money for a single page.







how much is a loaf of bread? hm? $3? $5? 

At my local grocery store, bread is about $4.50 for a decent size italian loaf. If I make $7.25 and hour, that means I’d have to work 37 and a half minutes for a Loaf of bread.

but hey, that’s not so bad right? Work two hours and you’ll have a sandwich, eh?

Oh hey, turns out I also need toilet paper, rice, chicken, some veggies, a can of soup, and some cereal. (to name a few basic groceries one might need on a budget) we’ll round those things down to $25 just to make the math easier.

at $7.25 an hour I’ll have to work about 3 and a half hours for basic groceries.

That doesn’t include bills or gas or all the other groceries I need, That’s ONE quick trip to the store and I already have to work half a day just for that.

You don’t understand Anon, my pages could take HOURS if not DAYS. Between the sketching, inking, colouring, lettering, and finishing it’s taken at least a full two day’s work if not longer for each page.

I have a job that pays me beans, I cannot afford to post more pages a week without compensation. I literally cannot afford to do that. Not to mention the idea that art is only worth minimum wage cheapens the amount of work and effort that goes into producing it. I should be making WELL ABOVE minimum wage for my art via page count and commissions but it’s this damn “deviant art” mindset that makes people feel like they’re being swindled for paying a livable wage to artists. It’s rude and childish and I ask that you please stop considering artists as less worthy of affording a normal life.

You can either pay me what I ask for what you want or stop complaining about what I already give you for free.


I cannot fucking stand people who tell illustrators that something they produce is too expensive.

Yall motherfuckers want cheap? Go get some paper, get a fucking pencil and then draw it your motherfucking selves because nobody freelancing on the internet who hasn’t even half made it in the illustration world is charging you ANYTHING close to industry pricing even when some of us are as good if not better. Why? Because of people like Anon. Your name must be out there and known to charge anything close to what your time and skill is worth. Yet still? You are paying for my effort, my time, my blood, sweat and tears and a lifetime of learning my trade.

A cheap page for yo ass is a piece of paper I haven’t touched yet.


(As a freelancer I cannot staaaaaaaaaaaaaand people who pull this dogshit.)

$100 is pretty cheap for a page.

Basic math, for Anon up there: Break that $100 down into an hourly rate. Factor in materials. Factor in skill and schooling and experience. Bear in mind that a page rate *at all* means there’s a good chance it’s work-for-hire, which means that $100 a page might be all the artist gets, ever.

And then, when you’ve done that math, think about what that means in terms of how few comics artists make a living hourly wage.

Want a pro artist, anon? Pay them like a fucking pro.

I’d like to add the a professional of any stripe has the duty to themselves, and the right to charge a rate based on his skill level and the work he or she puts in.

Reblogged from Burritos and Smorritos

queenoftheglitter asked: Ohmigosh what is Kill la kill, I just googled it and it has the weirdest results lol

An anime that I adore XD It’s less exhibitionist than it looks haha. I’m totally against over-sexualization of females in anime, but this show doesn’t bother me because they address it and make fun of it all the time haha

I should probably sleep but instead I’m lying awake in bed waiting for the rest of me to get as tired as my eyes.

I spend a lot of time aching here, but truly it is an ache born of something that brings me unmeasurable joy. I come here to bemoan my sorry situation and wax poetic about my poor aching heart, but that’s only a mechanism by which I deal with the pain. On the flip side of that coin is something I would die for. Something I would never lie to. Something I would fight, tooth and nail for. You see only the darkness because I need to let it out of me, but tonight I will shed only light. Right now everything is okay and I believe I have something that some people spend their lives searching for.
This means nothing to most of you and something to some of you, and it’s not even well written but it’s an honest stream of thought that I had the urge to share.

We have something that causes me the most pain I have ever experienced, but I wouldn’t give it up for a goddamned thing.