This Is A Title

I remember when I worked as an insurance agent, more than a decade ago.  The owner went on a cruise like thing and told me not to tell anybody where she was going.  This woman kept calling demanding to know where her money from the insurance company was.  I kept telling her, they’re mailing it, I’m not in control of how soon they mail it, that she should be receiving it in the mail.  She kept pressuring me and demanding to speak to my “supervisor” and I had to keep telling her that she couldn’t.  Finally she asked, exasperated, “Where the hell is she?” and I blurted out where she was.

Well, that was a really bad idea.  Turns out the lady then ridiculously claims that the owner is vacationing on her money.  I incredulously replied, “Do you really think that?  Really?”  Of course, as you can imagine, things didn’t go over very well from then on until she got her money and finally went away, claiming she’d never do business with us again.  Thank god.

I’ve been trying to be creative.  I’ve been drawing.  I’ve decided I’m going to do something I’ve always dreamed of doing, and that is becoming a comic book artist.  My mother and Maus suggested that I practice drawing from existing comics so that I can get a feel for how they work.  So… here are some of my practice sketches:


I like to think they’re pretty good.  The camera consistently distorts the proportions on my drawings compared to the original, but there are some issues as well.  I seem to have a tendency to stretch things out vertically, or sometimes straighten out things that are cocked to the side.

I’ve programmed computers my whole life, and that is something that I’ll continue to do, but I’ve always wanted to be an artist too.  I’ve always wanted to write and draw comics, my kind of comics, so… I’m going to try.  I’ve taken three semesters of drawing classes, so I know I can learn, it’s just a matter of doing it.  I’m trying to get into the ‘artist’s mindset’ and come up with ideas and characters and such.  I can’t wait to start drawing my own characters, but I’m still having trouble translating how I want something or someone to come across from words into lines.

The idea here is that every time I feel like programming something, with a few exceptions, I’ll focus on drawing.  I can still read some technical stuff, and I can continue learning about electronics, but I’m going to make drawing a priority in my life.  I want to write a slice-of-life comic, the kinds I’ve always enjoyed reading.

I’ve decided that I don’t need to go off my medication in a full blow.  I can wait and reduce my medication slowly, one step at a time.  This means that if I reach zero Lamictal by Christmas, that’s okay.  I’ve decided that I don’t need to put myself through anything harder just for something that might not exist.

I told my mother this week that I think I’m psychologically deformed.  She said, “That’s one way to look at it.  It’s a disability.”  What I meant by that was that, I haven’t naturally developed some things that ‘normal’ adults develop. For instance, I tend to see everything as either black and white, or as nothing, a phenomenon known as ‘splitting’ I’ve discovered.  As well, I don’t have a certain sense of natural constant identity, instead bleeding out into and out of others, choosing different paths, not focusing on one thing.  I wake up every day as if there’s no past, and there’s no future, just now pieced together from who knows what.  I also don’t think I have developed appropriate attraction and relationship development.  This has been evidenced in the past in relationships that only ended in heart ache.

The thing is, I don’t believe I’ll ever develop these things as ‘natural’.  Any way they might exist is on purpose and ‘artificial’.  In a way, I think I developed to certain stages and then got stuck there.  ‘Splitting’ can be linked to a disruption in the development of babies and toddlers.  This is also linked to a diminished capability to ‘self-soothe’, something I also gravely lack.  Homosexuality, I dare to say it, is a natural developmental phase in a male’s sexual maturity, but many males grow out of it.  I didn’t.  Puppy love is a tendency of teenagers, but I sometimes crave ‘instant intimacy’, something that truly, can never really exist.

But even as I write this, and can identify all of this, it doesn’t change the fact that it just doesn’t exist in my character.  It doesn’t exist in my nature, my existence, my psyche.  It’s not an automatic feeling, or reaction.  The automatic inescapable feeling is always the distortion.  These are things I have to manage and watch purposefully out for in hopes of maintaining some form of stable life.  If left unchecked, if given no thought, they would run rampant, harbingers of destructive tendencies; something I’ve done before.

It’s painful to have to fight yourself, to have to accept your feelings and act against them knowing that it’s the better way.  It’s painful to lose relationships, it’s painful to be disappointed, it’s painful to never seem to have what you’re looking for.  It’s painful to have a certain emptiness, a breeze of a person or an ideal can just blow you away into the nothingness, the void.  It’s painful to feel as if everyone else is some kind of human and you’re detached from everything and alone.

But, it’s my emptiness.  It’s my void.  It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.

I can’t cry anymore.  That’s something I have to talk to the nurse practitioner about.  I seem to be incapable of crying anymore, and sometimes I lie there thinking, if I could just cry it would feel so good.  I’ve actually dreamed about crying.

I wrote a poem too.  Here goes:

By Asher Wolfstein

From heart to hand
Pouring down the slope
Tonic fills the gopher holes
Subterranean homes drowned out
Vodka seeps across the cells
Brain crevices discolored stand out
Ditches flow black with bile
Blood bubbles up from the depths
Lumbering carcasses graze
Rays of sunset light
Dry out the stench
Skeleton beast climbs the height
Deathly silhouette against
Fertilizing pain
Green becomes yellow becomes grey
Nothingness fills the sky
Kills the weeds won’t even grow
At the center he lies
Trying not to breathe
His dark altered gaze surveys
Block the passage, control the flow
Shovels cut into the soft gelatinous matter
Static void is his constant foe
Four hooved carcasses shake their horns
And stand in court
They watch every drink
They see every knife
They judge every gun
Sentencing to life

I look around my blog and I’ve noticed I really haven’t been keeping it up to date.  All the songs are old, the books are old, and the shows are old.  But not that old.  I’m still playing Arc the Lad II, and I’m still watching Maude.  Oh my.  That’s kind of scary.

I played Arc the Lad II last night after putting it off for a very very long time.  There’s this one section where you have to go through a fifty level dungeon (sixty levels in the end) to get this character.  It took me five and a half hours, but I did it.  The hard part is that there is no place to save, so you have to be able to do it all in one go.  I knew I was going to have to devote a long time to it, so that’s why I put it off.  I’ve decided I need to beat this game so I can move on to something more exciting.  The Arc the Lad series is, funny enough, not my favorite JRPG series.

And then there’s Maude.

I’ve been hooked on the Golden Girls for so long, I haven’t even gotten around to starting and getting through the rest of the seasons of Maude!  I stopped at the end of season 2, and then, just kinda got stuck on Golden Girls again.  I’ve seen every Golden Girls episode WAY to many times.  So, last night, I scooped out Maude again and started the third season, I believe.  I watched through a whole disc while I conquered the Arc the Lad dungeon.

I guess I can try to make this blog a priority as well.  Everything’s a habit.

We rearranged the apartment, and now it is SO much more spacious.  AND, I have an entertainment center.  Before, everything was spread out and haphazard with wires everywhere.  Now, it’s all in one place, which is so much better.  I also got better speakers for the TV by hooking up my old stereo that I got when I lived in Handyville with the parents.  Problem is, rearranging kicked up a lot of allergens, and I finally had to go to the doctor because my breathing was rapidly decreasing in ability.  They gave me a nebulizer treatment, and I was still tight.  So now I’m on an antibiotic and a steroid for my lungs.  Things have improved, but I got this crap in my lungs that doesn’t seem to want to leave.

So, that’s life, coffee, drawing, writing, blogging, coughing, video gaming, tv show watching, and borderlining.  I’m going to try to do more cooking and fursuiting.  Gosh, my life is so hard.

That’s why it’s beautiful.

photo credit: Sunset over Gozo via photopin (license)


I'm just a wunk, trying to enjoy life. I am a cofounder of http// and I like computers, code, creativity, and friends.

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