List of Comic/Story Projects

Current:
-Street Devil
-When We Were Indestructible
-Why I Smile
-Monochrome
-Bluff!
-Lane
-Rogue Orion
-Before I Wake
-Knight
-Mega-Byte
-Untitled horror story
-Lenny the Emo Butterfly
-7 Days a Week
-Just My Imagination

Former:
-Blue Star
-[Insert Title Here]
-Adam and Sei
-Hellbound
-Kentaro
-Miscellaneous
-Kiki Can

White

White again.

It’s always white. The bed sheets and the pillow. The ceiling, the curtains. Everything is white. It stings. It’s relentless. White is an unforgiving color.

I hate white.

White is always what I wake up to afterwards. After that deep, still blackness. The sort that reels me in, makes me numb, and steals my breath. It’s hard to stay in the darkness. Someone always pulls me back a step. But I’ll always have one foot in the black.

When I start breathing on my own again, it’s harsh. The air is sour and burns with chemicals. I can barely see from all the white. My body is weak and slow to respond.

I lie still. There is nothing to do but wait. My mind turns rapidly. I feel bitter. At a loss. My chest swells with resentment. Defeated. Failed.

I know this routine all too well. There’s always questions. Question after question. I run out of answers. So, most of the time, I say nothing. I just want to leave that searing white.

Today, it’s white again. I wake up alone, my head pounding. The white is like a drill, boring at my skull. I sit up and lean forward, resting my forehead in my palms. I groan, weary from pain. My body is weak, as usual. An IV snakes around my arm. My mouth tastes terrible. I roll my head in my hands as I look to the side. I notice something on the table beside me.

I slowly pick up my head from my hands, reeling a bit as my headache surges. I grope at the table and grab the edge of a bag. A note on it says, “For Kieran Sullivan, Room C113.”

Without opening it, I think I know who this is from.

In an instant, my pain begins to fade.

White can be alright.

99 Plush

HERE IS THE PACKAGE I SENT TO ADAM AND TRACY. Bead sprites, ACEO! Also, a plushie of 99. Look at that soulless stare! Adorable. Here's a picture dump!







BONUS ACTION HAND!





I bet you guys are so sick of my Spider-Man bed sheets.

Lagrangian Point (2)

 I've learned the feel of this ground,
    its surface forms me in shifts,
        hollow bones snapping and cracking.

These feathers used to be my own,
    but now the earth lays claim to those remains.
As I become one with the clay,
    it becomes one with me.


Tearing me from the ground-
    I heave, and creak, and bleed,
        and cold air seeps inside me.
I'm losing my familiar fragments,
    let into a strange and icy world.

I remember the ease of sorrow
    and where you pulled me loose.



You speak in words I've never known,
    full of color and song and love.

I've never felt this sort of sting before,
    twisting and writhing
        in a complacent sort of madness.
These fits and tremors
    ease me to the breeze.




These days, I drift steady in your wake-
    careful and trained, gliding on air,
        defiant of the distant, groaning earth.

I'll pace myself
    and one day

        you'll see

I'll fly by your side.

WELL HELLO THERE HAVE SOME SKETCHES

Art Fart

Lagrangian Point

I've learned the feel of this ground
Its surface forms me in shifts
Hollow bones snapping, cracking
These feathers used to be my own
Taken now by the earth
As I become one with the clay
It becomes one with me

Tearing me from the ground
I heave and creak and bleed
Cold air seeps inside me
Losing my familiar fragments
Into a strange and icy world
I remember the ease of sorrow
And where you pulled me loose

You speak in words I've never known
Flowing with color and sound
This feeling I've always longed for
You guide me higher and higher
Drifting in your wake
I want to reach your height
And fly by your side.