Sorry peeps, we are closed today. That also means no Pokemon tournament tonight. We apologize for the inconvenience and will be back tomorrow for #NewComicWednesday . Again, we apologize and will be seeing you tomorrow. #SeguinItsReal #ThingsAreAboutToChange #ThanksForYourSupport (at Black Forest Comics)

Sometimes I just feel like my heart is in a loose-hinged caged with walls as thick as boulders set in place to keep people from coming in. Recently I’ve come to realize that these walls were more to keep me from coming out. One foot is always a step out looking for a chance to be free but the other stays in knowing that I’d be crawling back from the slightest brush against the brambles of chance of rejection. There isn’t much remedy in such stuffy walls. There are signs of struggle all over the room from past inflictions I caused myself. I pray for courage to walk out and be as free as the souls who have demolished the cages they were in. This is my safe haven and my prison. It’s cold, damp and wrecked but safe. I’ve tried opening the gates to let some fresh air and warmth from the sun in but the moment I do, I steal a chanced moment outdoors just to be greeted with masked intruders. Intrigued by the mask I stay, inching closer and closer to which I believe in my core is danger. Yet I stay because for that moment, I was no longer in my cage, my safe haven. I guess from the outside I look mangled, beaten and bruised because the masks never stay for long anyhow. I reach out to grab hold, begging for them to stay but then cold fitted shackles grab hold. How long have these been here? I crawl back inside and examine these chains just to recognize my handiwork. I put them there to keep me from leaving, to keep me from hurting myself. Expectations, demands, cultural norms, societal expectations of beauty and poise, personal distaste for not meeting them, chains that seemed to be hinged through these walls, rooted rather. I even stopped to stare at these walls to survey my surroundings. Painted memories that were once beautiful were now matted with dust and mold. Chipped, ripped wallpaper and hanging vines protruding from the formidable barricade set up. I didn’t even work on the upkeep for my own comfort. Instead I found myself half-tranced in living this cycle of self-degradation to punish myself for pain I was never meant to bear. I became my own prisoner and warden.

#thingsareabouttochange #kilyos #break