This has already been one of the nicest Decembers I’ve ever experienced. I’m not sure why, but I feel more relaxed and cheerful than I usually do this time of year.
I’ve been less certain about my place in the comic book industry lately, really considering if I actually care if I ever work professionally in the industry outside of being a retailer. But I love helping people find books. Seeing their eyes light up when they first see something they’re instantly interested in…
Gifts are good too. Assisting people in finding the presents they wish to give to somebody they care for.
You get people who have never been in a comic shop before, who aren’t familiar with how to navigate. Some are a little scared, some are a little hostile, and some are even just plain jerks. Not every interaction is a precious jewel of n experience.
But there’s something positive in it all, and I’m happy to be feeling it.
I was commenting to my dad about Christmas recently, saying how, when I was little, the best part about Christmas was when we’d pass through Vancouver, going from the interior where we lived to his parents’ home on Vancouver Island. We’d usually stay a day in Vancouver, and I’d get to go to the comic book stores, and it was… important to me. It was the best part of the holiday, in some ways the best part of my year.
I remember how it felt, being a little kid, and walking into the shop. Overwhelmed, but also safe. Nurtured. I felt like I was home.
And now. Now I am home. That’s how I talk about the shop. “I live here,” I say. And it makes me happy.
I thought you were listening to me, I thought I saw your ear pressed up against the keyhole, I thought you were watching those security cameras we got pointed inside at my room.
I slit my throat to ink my pen. I lived a rich and fulfilling life just to piss it all away down on the page. I crafted lies to fit myself within just to more appealing to your eyes.
Don’t look away. Don’t put me down.
I am a smile of teeth vibrating so fast and hard that you can’t even hear what I’m saying over the shaking. It’s all so insincere, all these tears, all this cursing and crying, but I can’t stop it from coming out. It’s all I got. It’s all I’m left with.
“Madballs!” The Uncle Whatever Show Thing: Episode 77.
Hey, it’s a show for kids!
WARNING: HARSH LANGUAGE. NOT FOR CHILDREN.
THIS WEEK: we look into the mysterious malevolent mysteries of the… MADBALLS! 1980’s wildest concoction of orbs and oddity! But what was their deal, and where did they come from? All the facts, and more, can be found in this week’s episode!
Broken little liars. We all climb together in a heap of our broken bones, and moan and wail like ghouls until the proper authorities come along and set us alight. Burn our skin, burn our muscles, burn us down to the bone.
Scoop us all up and put us in our unmarked grave.
Tell nobody about the experiment we called “people”.
