Dear jurors,

so I came off a loser in the Comic contest I took part in.

That’s okay. Really. I get it. I wasn’t expecting to win hands down anyway.

But I don’t get to be in the top eleven ranking? You put stick-figure drawings ahead of me?You know what? This blog’s painting in the header above? That’s my face reading your thank-you email, already vacant-eyed with pain. That’s the facial expression of deep depression and hardship. An expression that reflects nothing but fathomless pessimism and the loneliness of the invisible. This was the beginning of a terrible confusion of the heart I am still suffering from. And what followed the next minutes was the feeling of worthlessness, the lack of entitlement and the tormenting awareness of the world’s general crappiness.

Pitying myself for having had to pass through failure’s bitter door so unaccompanied, you’re somewhat glad I found ways of equilibrating myself with the lousiness of my circumstances:




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