I showed my sketchbook to a friend on Thanksgiving yesterday, filled with various serious horrors that suggest an ailment which I will probably never overcome-- that is, a love of cute things being terribly treated.
He was receptive. He even liked some. We laughed, he joked, he now shouts "POPLIOOO, NOOOOO WHYYY?" on occasion, and he even liked some, going on about my art style and how great it is. I was the first porn artist he knows whose work he's seen.
I am surrounded by good people, weather they decide to tease me, support me, or even appreciate me for my weirdness, I am constantly reminded of a truth I always forget.
People who love you do not desert you for your differences or their fears, it's your actions with them alone that matter.
I hid my sketchbook from him for like an hour before he called me squirelly, I got squirellier... Then another hour later, I just threw it at him with a list of warnings: "There's gonna be lolis. There's gonna be death. A pokemon dies at one point." Responded to with "I don't care, I'm not gonna judge, just give it to me already." That thing in bold I said up there?
I've gotta learn to act like it's true.
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7 years, 5 months ago
25 Nov 2016 19:58 CET
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