A few months back I began working on a comic about my dad and how my upbringing has affected me.
After rewriting some pages and a few minor image changes I consider it finished. Though I’m not 100 % sure on the last panel… Maybe less tears would feel better… ’cause I don’t feel sorry for myself.
Maybe I did when I wrote it… But today the sun is shining and I’m thinking that a romantic relationship isn’t the goal of my life now anyway.
These daddy-issues are actually working in my advantage at the moment. They are probably what spurred my creativity in the first place.
Naaahhh… shouldn’t give all the cred to dad for that… Mom’s been really good at encouraging my expressions in different art forms.
Anywayzzz, here it is. Very bad quality, but when I print it it’ll look much nicer. Might make a fanzine of it for SPX… We’ll see.
In conclusion;
I like it.
It’s true.
It’s me.
It’s fifteen pages.
If you’ve read the previous version you can scroll down and enjoy the last two pages of the story.
No, none of us understood any of it, but we both knew that this was the most beautiful gift he had ever given to anyone ever.
Two years… without a word… and then… the most beautiful gift…
That is so fucked up.
The sad thing about it all is that I know that his behaviour has shaped me.
I get obsessed with guys that give me a little attention and then turn cold.
Oh, God. The last one was extremely daddy-issue-projected…
Pathetic Frida.
Will I ever learn?
No. No I’ll never learn.
It’s as if there is no true love for me…
sniff.
only a bottomless need to be seen.
Please dear good God, prove me wrong.
