Alternative Comics Distopian Vices

Alternative Comics Monster and totem from beyond

A cloudy and dismally greyish Monday means productive studio bound hours. Lot's of inking and sketching and scribbling and thinking and eventually claustrophobic contaminations. I set out for an afternoon's read to avoid being crushed by the ever encompassing and continually shrinking of the walls. I'd  hopes of finding a reasonable place to read. Unfortunately the rain did not slow down the rats and the cafes were consumed. I found it very difficult to find seating in any of the windows and eventually made my way to the only bench with an over hang and free spot.

It was certainly warm enough and the drips could pass as pleasant once situated under the shelter but it did not take long to realize why such a lovely spot remained so easily accessible. With in moments a number of shadowy figures had regrouped and surrounded me. I gathered the re-grouping from their brief and abrupt sentences bellowed at volumes obviously meant to prove something. These shadows began to boast and boast to vulgarities.

In between each line of my book I was forced to contemplate a new drug or the size of a man's valour, even civil pleasantries were announced with the most foul of language. The group disbanded and reformed in numerous capacities.  Each time the central core returned  it was perpetually accompanied by new companions who did not stay long. Some of the additions to the hideous troupe were hideous but recognisable as apparently respectable members of the neighbourhood, however none of them were above participating in these ridiculous rituals. Each time they turned the corner I had hoped they would leave. Each time they would return and stifle my read.


There went a shop keep, followed by a thug. Then a young student, then a group of cultural deficient’s, then a business man, a homeless addict, the butcher, and finally the wannabe gangsters arrived and left blasting threats from a radio. The core group, whom I smelled, yes they smelled like a garbage old and over turned, continued to disperse and regroup until I had no choice but to forfeit my book.

I took to observing as a police officer strolled by , and I forced down my coffee inducing a high. But not like the high's being traded in sin, with each and every person the boasting was in. So without the words to read, enjoy and distract I realized quite plainly and obviously I had sat in the center of traffic. Here in plain sight, and irrefutable distaste were 4 little drug dealers who lives are a waste. Yeah it's on the corner of Ke-----on and A-----a at Louie’s coffee shop not like it’s news everyone knows and every one goes and the customer seating only sign is only for show. 

more art less rambling at http://www.heyapathy-comics-art.com/