a reminder

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.

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