"...I try to find the key, to fifty million fables...."

It's like picking a lock.

Most of the time I have a  constant monologue in my brain...and it never shuts up.

My mind never stays quiet unless I am working on a comic or something.  Then it is liking breaking into my house.  I feel like I am sitting outside the front door trying to spring a dead bolt with a couple paperclips and a safety pin.  When I finally pop the bolt then I manage to do a comic.  

I just wish it didn't take so damn long to open the door...



"I won't get to get what I'm after...till the day I die."