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PORCH #18

PORCH18

Remember, if the emperor looks naked, the emperor IS naked, and that’s called indecent exposure and you should call the police.

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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 feed over at Ello. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip , buy prints/stickers and more at my online store on Big Cartel, or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!

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PORCH #13

PORCH13

Nothing cuts through unhappiness like a Ginsu.

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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 feed over at Ello. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip , buy prints/stickers and more at my online store on Big Cartel, or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!

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PORCH #11

PORCH11

I think my favorite thing so far about this comic is coming up with ridiculous physical manifestations of complex psychological issues.

Buy My Book!  Support Me Via Patreon!  Visit My Online Store!

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 feed over at Ello. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip , buy prints/stickers and more at my online store on Big Cartel, or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!

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Pennies From Heaven, or, Songs I Used To Sing For Grandpa

My grandfather and I used to go on walks around his neighborhood.

At one point, he’d taught me to sing the song “Pennies From Heaven”, and sometimes we’d sing it together while on these little walks. This is, among other memories only featuring my grandparents, one of the only good memories I have from my childhood. Honestly, if you ask, most of the good memories I have of my childhood revolve around them. Whether it’s sitting with my grandmother and cracking walnuts or watching TV with them late into the night, they seem to be the only constant in my “good” childhood memories. When they died, so did anything really good in my life, and that’s been kind of hard to reconcile with.

I tried so hard to search for new things to make me happy. Art, media of any kind, love from another person, but in the end, none of it, especially after a good chunk of years, did the trick. At least not to the extent that they had done. But then, I realized recently, I was so obsessed with the best times and the worst times (IE; the rest of my life) that I was forgetting that I could make new best times. It’s not like there’s an expiration date on happiness. It isn’t something that goes bad if left unattended too long in the fridge. You can always make new happy memories, given the right circumstances.

I think I’m often so damn depressed that I forget I can still be happy, and I think I sometimes feel like if I DO find myself feeling happy that I then must’ve been faking my sadness, but that’s ridiculous. Nobody is unhappy 24/7, not even me. I mean, it’s close, but it’s not 24/7. But yeah, I’m in the market for some joy. It’s time to start feeling a lot better, even if my new happy memories don’t include my grandparents. By fixating on them, the time I spent with them, so often, I am doing myself a disservice. I’m not allowing myself to grow and make new happy memories. It’s hard, sometimes, to be happy…especially given my living situation (about to be homeless, so if you wanna help my girlfriend and I fight that, we have a gofundme) and financial standings, but it doesn’t mean it’s impossible. You have to first learn to take happiness in small chunks, where you can find it, whether that’s a meal with someone you love or a book you’re enjoying or simply just cleaning up your living area because a disheveled living area can make you feel disheveled by proximity. Or…in my grandfathers idea, it can be a song about pennies.

I haven’t listened to Pennies From Heaven in almost 15 years at the most now, I bet, if not longer. I don’t know that I could, honestly. It feels like it was from a time that I don’t have access to anymore, that it’s been somehow locked away from me. Even though I know how easy it would be to listen to it; I’d simply go to youtube or open spotify and I’m sure within seconds, a few keystrokes, I’d have it at my command, but…if I am going to try and move forward, then why look back? I need to associate new music with new memories, not be stuck with old music from old memories. Wallowing in the music from that time period doesn’t do anything from me. I have the memories. I don’t need the music. Maybe one day I will listen to Pennies From Heaven again.

Maybe one day I will listen to Pennies From Heaven with my own children, or my own grandchildren.

And I’ll be happy.

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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 feed over at Ello. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip , buy prints/stickers and more at my online store on Big Cartel, or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!

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Paper Vehicles

I sailed a paper boat into the ocean, I flew a paper airplane into the sun

Fake vehicles for fake people, crafted from suicide letters and private notes

I wrote the things I couldn’t say and I rode them away; secrets and dreams, whispers and screams, pleas from within and at the end of the day

I crashed them into mountain ranges and sailed into raging storms, knowing full well they’d destroy me

I sailed a paper boat into the ocean, I flew a paper airplane into the sun

Fake vehicles for fake people, folded from birthday cards and family photos

I took the things I could remember and I used them to escape; photos turned to sails, cards turned to wings, knowing I’d fail at each of these things

I crashed them into corn fields and sailed into coastlines, knowing full well they’d destroy me

I sailed a paper boat into the ocean, I flew a paper airplane into the sun

Fake vehicles for fake people, structured from unwritten nobels and sketchbook drawings

I took the things I once cherished and I captained them to ends; books became jet engines and art became anchors, destroying my things as I destroyed my self

I crashed them into buildings and sailed into whirlpools, knowing full well they’d destroy me

I sailed a paper boat into the ocean and I flew a paper airplane into the sun

Not to escape who I had been, but to escape who I’d become

Buy My Book!  Support Me Via Patreon!  Visit My Online Store!

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 feed over at Ello. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip , buy prints/stickers and more at my online store on Big Cartel, or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!

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The Dead Tooth Society

This may be a bit impersonal, but hey, what’s a little impersonality (is that even a word?) among strangers on the internet. Ever since I was a little girl, I was told to brush my teeth, much like most of you, I’m assuming, were also told. And for a good long while I did just this, I brushed my teeth every single night and morning. Then, sometime around age 10 or 11, I just…stopped. I just cold turkey stopped brushing my teeth. Because of this, I am now nearly 30 and my teeth are in awful shape. I have begun brushing them again, and it’s helped a bit, but the damage is done. And when I say “awful shape”, I mean they’re crooked (not that brushing your teeth helps that any), slightly yellow and pockmarked, and my bottom right molar flat out cracked about two years ago and has had a hole in it ever since, thus making it basically unusable if I want to eat on that side of my mouth. It rarely hurts, but still.

In hindsight, I think a lot of my rash decision in stopping brushing my teeth was because I wanted to, in the long run, hurt myself. This is a little weird to me because, for a long time, I never thought about my life “in the long run”, as I sort of expected to kill myself when I was, oh, 20 or so. Obviously that didn’t happen, not that I didn’t try, lord knows, but I’m still, sadly, here. But I guess, as I said, in hindsight, what I was trying to do was hurt myself in more ways than one. I didn’t see myself necessarily as something or someone worth taking care of and keeping around. I had a weird situation with my teeth as it was as a little girl, because my mouth was too small, and I had too many teeth, like some sort of sideshow sharkgirl or something. I had to have a surgery when I was about 9 or so and have a lot of them extracted so that my new teeth could come in regularly, which they pretty much did, thank god.

I’m telling you all this because, well, for one, I apparently don’t believe in anything like “too much information”, but also because I want to drive home a point about depression. People often talk about depression in ways like ‘it’s not just laying in bed or crying in the shower, it’s not as dramatic as the movies make it out to be! it can be as simple as just not eating a whole day’ and while I agree with this statement, I also think it goes beyond THAT. I think it even extends to things unconsciously that you do to yourself, like me and for whatever reason deciding to stop brushing my teeth, which I know recognize in retrospect as being a way to hurt myself. I succeeded, I must admit. There’s nothing I’m better at than taking bad care of myself. It’s a gift, really. But yeah, it’s a lot of subconscious things as well, especially in regards to hygiene. I know a lot of depressed people who say depression zaps them of their energy to even be able to bathe, and I’ve experienced that as well. Nowhere near as bad as others or nowhere near as bad as failing to take care of my teeth, but still.

It may be too late for my teeth, it may not be, but I’ve decided it’s not too late for me. Teeth can be replaced. I can’t be. Sometimes to save your whole self, you have to sacrifice a part of you.

DTS Image

image created via Maggie Taylor

Buy My Book!  Support Me Via Patreon!  Visit My Online Store!

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 feed over at Ello. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip , buy prints/stickers and more at my online store on Big Cartel, or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!

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SAD PAINTING: “No”

IMG_20190318_211134

I have decided to do a series of SAD PAINTINGS. Each painting will be a lovely background with a big, awful word across it. These are the only ones in existence, so if you want to buy them before they’re unavailable, be sure to do so. You can buy this one right here.

Buy My Book!  Support Me Via Patreon!  Visit My Online Store!

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 feed over at Ello. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip , buy prints/stickers and more at my online store on Big Cartel, or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!