Yesterday, while chatting with my ex at the bus stop, I was reminded of how pleased I am to never have to do any of the following ever again:
- Go to a comic book store.
- Read a graphic novel.
- Watch some shitty comic book based movie or show.
- Go to a comic book convention.
It still feels so fucking good. God damn I hate that shit. Even when it was “good” it was still a fucking chore. I spent years of my life
tolerating enduring it.
This is one of those things I have an intensely irrational hatred for. I’m aware of it, and I’m okay with it.