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Sadie Says Goodbye To The Classroom

technologiesShe hadn’t been in the classroom since she’d last spoken to Miss Rogers. She’d actually planned on coming back and teaching in this very room, but with the school being sold and torn down, that was no longer a viable option. Sitting here, on her old desk, in her 4th grade classroom, Sadie could remember every single moment of her childhood clear as a bell.

She could remember the way Miss Rogers smelt when she leaned down to help her with a math problem, or the way the laughter of the students used to fill the classroom when they’d watch a movie every Friday afternoon. She longed to go back to these days. No other days in her childhood, just these days, in this classroom. Sadie stood up and walked to the desk where Miss Rogers used to sit and touched it with her fingertips, picking up lots of dust. She smiled as she remembered how she used to bring an apple to her once a week, thinking that was what you brought your teacher, and then the one time she brought her an entire box of chocolates during Valentines Day. She felt embarrassed because nobody else got the teacher anything, but Miss Rogers seemed pretty appreciative, and her smile…god her smile.

This was where Sadie became the person she would be for the rest of her life. Discovering the things she really loved, like reading and teaching, and how badly she wanted to be a teacher herself one day. This was where Sadie learned that how others felt about her didn’t matter so long as she believed in herself. This was where Sadie had learned she had a crush on her 4th grade teacher. This classroom was her life, her home away from home, and soon it’d be nothing more than a pile of rubble. The best years of her youth were spent here, and where would she spend the best years of her adult life? Certainly not where she was right now, living in a tiny one bedroom apartment, pining over her next door neighbor, the pretty brunette with the blue streaks in her hair and always smiled at her when they saw one another. No. She needed something more, something equal to this classroom. She’d thought about staging a protest; handcuffing herself to the desk leg or something dramatic like that, but she knew it wasn’t a good idea. She did want to get hired as a teacher eventually.

Sadie walked over to the chalkboard and ran a broken, run down piece of chalk along it, writing her name in cursive, and then over to the rack where they hung their coats and then to the cubby hole where they stuck their bags. God. This all seemed so fresh, like it’d just happened. Nothing else seemed so fresh. Is that what makes your best memories your best memories? Because you can recall them so vividly, comparatively to everything else? Perhaps. And what she’d give to speak to Miss Rogers again, just one more time. Tell her how her crush on her teacher allowed Sadie to realize it was okay for a girl to like girls, and that she inspired her to become a teacher herself. But that was also impossible. Miss Rogers had been in that car accident a few years back, and the last thing she’d ever told Sadie through their various e-mails while Sadie was at college was, “lol this cat is so stupid!!!”

The emails stopped coming, and soon enough Sadie heard the news, and was understandably devastated. You rarely get over your first major crush, but much more rarely do they DIE. This hurt on a number of levels. The first person she’d ever liked and the person who inspired her to choose her career was gone, and she’d never gotten around to thanking her for either. And now? Now her classroom would be gone as well. It wasn’t bad enough she herself had been ripped violently from this mortal coil, apparently, no. They had to rip her classroom from it as well. She sighed and then walked over to the rack, took her coat and walked to the cubby, took her purse and then stopped at Miss Rogers desk and placed her hand on the top of it, a few tears finally escaping and rolling down her eyes.

“Thank you,” Sadie whispered, before leaving.

Sometimes a room doesn’t even have to belong to a house to have had an enormous impact on you. Sometimes it can be something as simple as a classroom as well. She knew the demolition was scheduled for a few hours from now and figured she’d go grab lunch, come back and take a seat to watch it. This way it’d be a clean break from her past, and maybe she could finally move on towards her future.

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I’m Maggie. If you like this thing I made, you might like some other things I make, like my depressing webcomic “In Space, No One Can Hear You Cry”, my podcast network “The Feel Bad Network” or my writing over at Medium. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!

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I Am So Tired Of You All

I have never been an extroverted person.

Now I’m somehow even less of one. Honestly, at this point, even just the mere thought of interacting with another human being, especially after how they’ve treated me this past year, makes me sick to my stomach. I no longer wish to get to know anyone. I don’t care what their hobbies or interests are, what their thoughts on anything might be, what foods they may enjoy, or anything of the sort. I do not care. I could not care less. I just want to be left the hell alone. I am so goddamned angry at the entire world now that I would be 100% perfectly fine being alone for the remainder of my life, or just living it out with only my girlfriend at my side.

People are liars. People are unreliable. People are manipulative. Even if they don’t mean to be these things, they are, and they’re often so embarrassed for being them that they take it personally when you bring it up, so they’ll defend themselves for the shitty actions, and really there’s no reason to have that or any other conversation. I know. I know this must make me sound like a cold, heartless bitch, but you have to understand where I’m coming from. 97% of the people I have dealt with throughout my life, including people I thought I was extremely close to and considered important to me, hurt me in some way or another, including people this year who I thought would never turn on me. And I know, I know, it’s “unhealthy” to still feel this way and to write people off as a whole because just a large amount have been bad to me, but consider this.

I don’t care.

I’m not trying to be rude. I just…I don’t have the ability to care anymore, literally. I have become so depressed, so deeply sick, that I no longer care about anything; about myself, about my health, about anything around me, about my work, about the lack of interest in my work, about my ‘friendships’, etc. It’s not like I don’t want to care. I literally cannot care. I am exhausted and overworked and completely used up. I really…I just hate people so, so very much. These days, I keep my headphones on, sit in my bed all day and try not to sob the entire time. I try to interact with the world surrounding me as little as possible, and a lot of that is because how other people have treated me, especially within the past year.

I want to be better. Deep inside I do, I can feel it, I can feel that itching to be a better, healthier person; someone who isn’t held back by their trauma and is instead working to move forward and get better. I thought I was becoming that person. But no. Instead I’m going to end the year that was supposed to be a step forward as 14 steps backwards. I wanted so badly to make progress, but that just isn’t something I can achieve. I’ve come to accept that. These days, I’m mad at the fact that I even have to wake up, because it means dealing with everything for another miserable 24 hours, and that’s horrid enough of a thought. I thought that perhaps sharing my feelings here may help, but nobody ever interacts, just like with my work, and so I don’t really have anyone. I’m not even “over it all”. I’m just too damn tired to be over it all. I’d LOVE to be over it all, but I can’t even muster the enthusiasm for that.

That’s the thing about being hurt for so long by so many people…it exhausts you to the point where recovery isn’t even a viable option anymore. Now I just exist. I try and get through each day without crying too much and ignoring as many people around me as possible. If I don’t have to talk to anyone and don’t cry too much, I consider that a successful day. That’s where I’m at. I’m sorry to sound like such a bitch. I’m just too tired to even make this entire post sound coherent. I’m just so fucking tired.

So very fucking tired.

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I’m Maggie. If you like this thing I made, you might like some other things I make, like my depressing webcomic “In Space, No One Can Hear You Cry”, my podcast network “The Feel Bad Network” or my writing over at Medium. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!

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Close To Monsters #34

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This weeks comic is brought to you by the fact that you’ll never experience your parents standard of living.

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I’m Maggie. If you like this thing I made, you might like some other things I make, like my depressing webcomic “In Space, No One Can Hear You Cry”, my podcast network “The Feel Bad Network” or my writing over at Medium. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!

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Close To Monsters #33

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This weeks comic is brought to you by the fact that once you spend so much of your life drowning in negativity, something positive can be terrifying.

Buy My Book!  Support Me Via Patreon! Donate To Our GoFundMe!

I’m Maggie. If you like this thing I made, you might like some other things I make, like my depressing webcomic “In Space, No One Can Hear You Cry”, my podcast network “The Feel Bad Network” or my writing over at Medium. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!

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A Quick “Happy Comic”

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Hey, here’s a new (uncolored) Happy Comic, cause I’m still bitter about all this goddamned positivity.

Buy My Book!  Support Me Via Patreon! Donate To Our GoFundMe!

I’m Maggie. If you like this thing I made, you might like some other things I make, like my depressing webcomic “In Space, No One Can Hear You Cry”, my podcast network “The Feel Bad Network” or my writing over at Medium. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!

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Modern Museum Of Mistakes: Short Story

Ocean(1) Hey, Augusts short story is now out! Please buy it and help my girlfriend and I take care of some medical bills! I’m also linking our gofundme at the bottom of this page! Anyway, here’s a description of the story:

Lena Pilgrim, a woman in her late 30s, is taking on a late night security job at her local art museum as a way to make ends meet. One night, Lena finds herself with a new artist in the museum, and things quickly become strange when Lena notices the paintings on the walls start to mirror certain moments in her life, allowing her to view them in real time. Is this artist really an artist, or something more? Lena intends to find out, even if the truth hurts her.

Anyway, the story is available for purchase right here at the low, low cost of a buck fifty! Any and all sales will be extremely appreciated. Also, as I stated above, I am putting the GoFundMe my girlfriend started in here. I hate to do this sort of thing for we REALLY need the help, so if you could give anything at all, we’d be so super appreciative. Thank you so much! I promise to start updating this blog again regularly!

Buy My Book!  Support Me Via Patreon!

I’m Maggie. If you like this thing I made, you might like some other things I make, like my depressing webcomic “In Space, No One Can Hear You Cry”, my podcast network “The Feel Bad Network” or my writing over at Medium. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!