(no subject)
Hey kids. Now, instantly, you've got some questions. Why am I reading this in a straightforward paragraph, and not four panels? What kind of font do you call that? Isn't it breakfast time? And, perhaps most significantly, Phil, darling, where have you been for the past few days? (You call me "darling" because we're so close.)
Well, your worst fears have just been realized. I am, for the present and with no plans to resume, halting the strip. I also have no plans not to resume. But then again, I have no plans not to not resume.
What it comes down to, basically and primordially, is my job. My job is boring. After a few weeks, even the most eccentric customer fits into one of several categories, and is boring. I find no humor in it, and I'm closely monoitored, so I'm unable to add any humor of my own. The job also involves sitting down, staring at a screen, and putting words into tiny boxes. When I get home from my awful job that I hate, the last thing I want to do is stare at a computer and, you guessed it, put more words into more tiny boxes. Even if they're my words and my tiny boxes.
There are other considerations. Because of this job and other commitments, the time I have to work on what I understand is commonly referred to as "my own shit" is drastically reduced, and so, given that writing in one form or another is something I'd really like to be paid for some time in the near if not immediate future, I need to spend that time on more goal-oriented things, and fewer things that exist only for my own amusement and the amusement of the (ballpark figure) dozen of you, who have so far, and this is totally not a judgement, failed to purchase a single t-shirt.
But hey, check back occasionally if you want. I'm hoping to quit this job in a couple of months, and maybe things will change. Maybe I'll get my act together and put AW onto a proper website like I've always promised. And in the meantime, this space will not always be blank. Part of the deal with Artist Wanted, as loyal readers know, is that I am OPINIONATED. And SELF-OBSESSED. And this is why God created the internet. So you should not be surprised beyond reckoning if you check your friend feed dingus and find I've written something properly, free of boxes, expressing how sad I've become recently as I've thought about how little sense The Matrix makes.
The important thing to say, I guess, is that I do take this somewhat seriously, and it's been fun, and all you guys have been great, and I don't think we've been wasting our time, however the strip may have indicated otherwise, Thank you so much, and if Artist Wanted 2.0 comes into being, I'll fully vouch for anyone who wants to brag to their internet friends that they knew me when. Provided they remember the password. And are not one of my exes, of whom I will disavow all knowledge, because it's so much easier than dealing with my real feelings.
Cheers for now,
PSG
Well, your worst fears have just been realized. I am, for the present and with no plans to resume, halting the strip. I also have no plans not to resume. But then again, I have no plans not to not resume.
What it comes down to, basically and primordially, is my job. My job is boring. After a few weeks, even the most eccentric customer fits into one of several categories, and is boring. I find no humor in it, and I'm closely monoitored, so I'm unable to add any humor of my own. The job also involves sitting down, staring at a screen, and putting words into tiny boxes. When I get home from my awful job that I hate, the last thing I want to do is stare at a computer and, you guessed it, put more words into more tiny boxes. Even if they're my words and my tiny boxes.
There are other considerations. Because of this job and other commitments, the time I have to work on what I understand is commonly referred to as "my own shit" is drastically reduced, and so, given that writing in one form or another is something I'd really like to be paid for some time in the near if not immediate future, I need to spend that time on more goal-oriented things, and fewer things that exist only for my own amusement and the amusement of the (ballpark figure) dozen of you, who have so far, and this is totally not a judgement, failed to purchase a single t-shirt.
But hey, check back occasionally if you want. I'm hoping to quit this job in a couple of months, and maybe things will change. Maybe I'll get my act together and put AW onto a proper website like I've always promised. And in the meantime, this space will not always be blank. Part of the deal with Artist Wanted, as loyal readers know, is that I am OPINIONATED. And SELF-OBSESSED. And this is why God created the internet. So you should not be surprised beyond reckoning if you check your friend feed dingus and find I've written something properly, free of boxes, expressing how sad I've become recently as I've thought about how little sense The Matrix makes.
The important thing to say, I guess, is that I do take this somewhat seriously, and it's been fun, and all you guys have been great, and I don't think we've been wasting our time, however the strip may have indicated otherwise, Thank you so much, and if Artist Wanted 2.0 comes into being, I'll fully vouch for anyone who wants to brag to their internet friends that they knew me when. Provided they remember the password. And are not one of my exes, of whom I will disavow all knowledge, because it's so much easier than dealing with my real feelings.
Cheers for now,
PSG