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Close To Monsters #42

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This weeks comic is brought to you by feeling like one with absolutely nothing.

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’ve done, like my 2015 novel “You Ruined Everything”, 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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Coping With Tonal Shifts In Reality: Episode 13 “Log Date”

In this weeks episode, USER 147 has left Samantha with a host of tapes to listen to, and they bring back a bit more than just memories as Sam tries to put her reasoning for transplanting into context.

I’m well aware this should’ve come out on Monday, but I got very sick over the weekend, so, sorry? Anyway, yay new shows. If you like this episode, this project or just other things I do, and you wanna hear next weeks episode TODAY, then I suggest mosying on over to my Patreon, where, for a buck a month, you get next weeks episodes a whole 7 days early, and for 3 bucks a month, you even get credited for supporting it! I hope you guys like this. Enjoy your time in therapy.

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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The Girl Who Knew Absolutely Nothing

I don’t know how to properly wash a dish.

Let’s start with that. My parents, in their infinite wisdom, prepared their children for many things in life. But I guess preparing them for things like, oh, daily life activities that even a brain damaged sea turtle could accomplish just fucking slipped their mind. Actually, I honestly believe they never taught me anything, especially my mother, because they needed me to be dependent on them so I, in turn, could never leave them, and, in turn, always be controlled by them. This may sound vitriolic. This post may come across as verbose. And then another “V” word. But here’s the thing…I don’t know shit.

The few things I actually seem like I DO know I know because I taught myself them, back when I still had the capacity to learn and retain new information. Things like film/audio editing and website design, shit like that, but nothing that actually helps on a day to day basis, like, ya know, cooking. Because of this, I’m super dependent on my girlfriend, to the point where I feel like a selfish piece of shit. I feel like a child, and it’s depressing, because I’m a 29 year old girl and I can’t even make myself dinner most times unless it’s something I can cook in a toaster oven or microwave, and even then it’s questionable. This is just so depressing, and I hate it, but I have no real way to fix it, which makes things all the more depressing.

I want to know things. I want to learn. I want to be able to take care of myself. But fundamental things (and I’ve talked about this before, I recognize, but never in this depth I feel), like washing my hair, cleaning a dish and doing my laundry? All shit I know I am either doing wrong or am scared I cannot do at all. One of these things, though, that I never bring up, is being in love. I am constantly certain that I cannot love properly, and that the way I love is completely wrong. It’s bad enough to feel disconnected from society for being a lesbian, but it’s even worse to add this on top of that. As someone of the LGBT community, I’m already told constantly, despite all the acceptance there seems to be these days, that the way I love someone is wrong, so to then believe I can’t love someone wrong for other reasons on top of that is just…man it’s exhausting. I am always sure I am being cruel and unloving, even if I’m constantly told I am not. I am convinced that I am abusive, even though I know full well I am not, and even my girlfriend tells me that’s a ridiculous thing to think.

But because nobody ever taught me anything, I question everything I do know, or think I know. The worst thing my parents ever did to me, more than all the other terrible shit, was not teach me a single fucking thing, because it convinced me that I just wasn’t important enough to teach. That I wouldn’t do anything right anyway, so why bother teaching me anything. And sure, some of it can be chocked up to my autism, I won’t deny it, because some of them are basic motor functions, but still…

…I’m so tired guys. I’m really so tired of feeling wrong in every possible way. I’m so tired of feeling like I’m existing incorrectly simply because I can’t, oh I don’t know, tie my shoes. It’s exhausting to be handheld through things everyone else seems to know and do with ease. Things a person SHOULD be able to grasp, such simple concepts, like washing a piece of fruit. I’m so tired of this, yes, but you know what I’m even more tired of?

Feeling bad for feeling bad. I’m so goddamned tired of thinking, “Well, I can’t do this, so clearly I must be stupid, and I should feel bad for it.” No. I shouldn’t feel bad for it. Nobody can do everything, and I can’t do anything, but that doesn’t mean I should feel bad because of it. I still get up every day and try, no matter how poorly I may do things, and that’s a hell of a lot more than I thought I’d ever do. I keep trying, even if trying means failing, because to not try means I’m right and I AM bad at everything. I’m tired of feeling bad because I’m told I should feel bad if I can’t do these things.

Believe me, if any of us should feel bad here, it’s the people who tell me I should feel bad.

Not me.

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!

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This One Goes Out To You

Wanna hear quite possibly the most ironic thing of all time?

When I was a little girl, my mother used to play a lot of music in the house and in the car. I have to give my mother some credit for exposing me to a lot of media and helping widen my knowledge of pop culture, especially when it comes to music, so. One day, the song “Sweet Child O’ Mine” by Guns ‘N Roses came on, and I can’t remember where we were or what the situation was, but I distinctly recall her saying to me:

This was the song your father and I picked for you. This is your song.

If you’ve read my blog, and you know anything about my parents, my childhood, my relationship with my family or anything pertaining to that, you’d recognize this statement as full on fucking hilarious. Like, Emmy Award Winning Best Writing in a Comedy Series type of hilarious because it evokes so much foreshadowing and irony that nothing beats it. My parents are NOT the kind of people who believe in the lyrics portrayed in this song.

My mother, back in the day, was fairly okay. It wasn’t until she really got re-married when I was about 8 and started living with a psychologically abusive stepdad that she took a turn for the worse. There was a time when she was rather enjoyable and loving, but that all quickly changed and now, no matter how much she swears up and down she has changed, I cannot believe a word of it because I’ve been at the firing line firsthand. My father has never cared about me, at least not outside the abstract sense. He cares that someone exists who will carry on his last name (Taylor is not actually my last name), but seeing as I’m infertile, there’s hilarity in that as well. He has rarely reached out to talk since I was a young adult and often left me wildly depressed and disappointed as a little girl. I was usually nothing more than a bargaining chip between the two of them growing up, especially for my father, and it’s taught me to be extremely wary of people in general when they say they care for me.

When you dedicate a song to someone, you do it because you honestly, genuinely believe that song encapsulates how you feel towards the person you’re dedicating it to. We’ve all heard it said, that couple that goes, “Oh, this is OUR song!”. The song they play at their wedding, that they had on the radio on their first date or something. That one tune. But to dedicate a song, especially one as ultimately schmaltzy as “Sweet Child O’ Mine”, to your newborn daughter and then turn around and abuse her for years to come is completely insulting to the entire concept of dedicating songs to people. I mean, imagine taking lyrics like this:

I hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain

and turning right around and inflicting that pain on your own child. You hate to see an ounce of pain? Then stop fucking hurting me. I know. I know. Every kid grows up to hate their parents and eventually realizes how much they loved them and blah blah blah. No. Some kids actually grew up in a broken fucking home. My home might’ve been lavish and we might’ve had money, but that didn’t make it any less goddamned broken, alright? My parents often fought about me right in front of my bedroom door so I’d feel bad, they often allowed my stepsiblings to make fun of me openly without defending me one bit, they often made fun of me THEMSELVES, which was hilarious, given that I actually put in the effort to get to know my stepfather and we shared more of the same common interests than his own children shared with him, and yet he STILL treated me poorly. Gee, I wonder why I don’t get close to people anymore? Hey, Maggie, why don’t you open up and let people in? Because if my body is a temple, then you fuckers are here to desecrate it.

…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get that emotional. I’m just sometimes in utter awe at the fact that people can be that two faced. That deceptive, especially to themselves about themselves. I was a scared, somewhat challenged little girl. All I wanted was a mom and a dad, any dad, who loved me. Who believed in me. Who supported me. Who wanted to be with me. You know what the end result in this is? By dedicating that song to me, and then not following through on loving me themselves, sometimes it feels like Guns ‘N Roses loved me more because, oh, it’s MY song. Think about that. I’m a 28 year old woman now, and I have a more parental connection to a fucking 80s rock ballad than to my own paternal figures. How is that ok.

I am nobodies sweet child.

Especially not yours, mom and dad.

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Birds My Father Hated: Episode 8 “Penguins”

In this weeks episode, Mavis tells the story of the first time she went to the Zoo, and how jealous she was of a Penguin. If you like this show, want to help me create more or see other content I produce, drop by my Patreon where, for as low as a buck a month, you can have next weeks episode TODAY!

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!

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Is There Anything Else I Can Do For You?

a short story(1)This months Payhip short story is now available. Now, to be fair, this is a re-release, as this story was previously only available in my collected work “Nice Girls Don’t Burn Ants”, but now you can buy just this story! Anyway, a description:

Nathan Fielding has the house to himself. He’s supposed to be getting his things out in time for the divorce, but that’s taken a backseat ever since he woke up and found his daughters pet Finch dead that morning. And if things were’t weird enough already, now there’s a human sized papier mache bird talking to him, and it seems to know a lot about his life.

There will be a NEW original story next month, I’ve just been swamped with projects and couldn’t manage to knock out a new short story this time. But here you can read this one, now available all on its own! Enjoy!

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!