Shell
I have a defense mechanism that triggers anytime I feel threatened, scared or ashamed, and I don’t particularly like it. Whenever someone confronts me, I curl up in the most metaphorical sense of the word, and just shut off. I stare into space, don’t respond, and just let my head bob up and down until whoever is confronting me either gives up, exasperated, or drops me and moves on. I often hurt afterwards, but so far I’ve been able to push any feelings of dark, writhing hate and pain deep inside myself and ignore it. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt for the first bit.
I worked on a web comic for about a year and a half, dumping hours and hours of coding, scripting, tweaking, artwork and lettering into the tiny project. I watched as our numbers rose steadily and our fan base began to grow. Then came school, friends and self-defeat. With everything around me chiseling away at my formidable Formica façade with assignments, projects, dinners and other wastes of time, I found my side of the job slipping—comics were going up late, but they always looked so good.
Two weeks ago, my girlfriend asked me if she could work with me on some art projects, jealous of the time I spent on my comic, so I told her I would. (I’d be a fool not to appease such a beautiful girl as she.) That night, we took some concept art created for the comic and worked on shading it in Adobe Illustrator. I had an amazing time with her, us laughing, smiling and actually working together on something that wasn’t sex, making that night—and that project—something that I loved working on. So, I posted what we had done on the comic’s forum. Boy, was that a mistake.
The next day, the guy who works with the artist, a sorry piece of shit who can’t keep up his own work so he panders to beasts larger than he, standing on their shoulders to get a good view of popularity, feels the need to talk to me online. He requests me to take down the work that Elizabeth and I had done together, and the sheer nerve of him asking me to take down something I had worked on and poured so much emotion into made me snap. My fingers pummeled the keyboard with a flurry of blows, and once the beating had ended, he was not amused. He tucked his tail between his legs and ran back to his keeper, the artist. This did not bode well for me.
For the next few days, the artist kept trying to talk to me, something sappy about feelings and “how down I’ve been lately.” I could only scoff and ignore him—he knew nothing about “how down I’ve been lately.” I tucked my head in my shell and worked alone. Finally spending the time with Elizabeth that she deserved, I began to peek out more and more until the cleaver came down unexpectedly.
It was a simple, innocuous note, but its contents were a fiery dragon of disappointment. Basically, I’m a let down and a fuck up. I can’t keep deadlines or do anything needed. I’m too into having fun with a project that’s ultimately going to end rather than make it some grand array of colors and panels. I don’t know where the story is going ever since he stopped talking to me about the story. Why? Because I liked the fucking story. Because I really liked where it was going and never had a problem taking it there. Because I worked at my pace and beat myself up when the comic wasn’t out by the deadline. Of course I never showed my self-defeat—my shell is far too thick. He went on to say something about cunts and that he didn’t want to work with me anymore.
I was dumped.
Flash to now. I really have no reason to be on the internet as a publishing presence. Everything I’ve started has failed, save the one thing I get kicked out of. No one reads I, Revolutionary!, and I post only to see my words on the internet, a veritable narcissist of the digital age. At least I can remember the time I was known on the internet, and how much I loved it.
This may or may not be the last post you’ll see from me. As I’ve said before, there’s really no reason for me to be here. Writing is a waste of my time if there is no audience. Trying is a waste of my time if there’s no way things will work out. I’ll just crawl back into my shell where things are safe, warm and solemn.
Ashley Schmidt says:
Zachary,
I love your writing. This is the only way I can really understand how you are feeling. I know you hate talking to me about things, and when I read your posts, I understand you better and where you are coming from.
Please don't stop writing. You are so beautiful when you write. I can't help but feel some guilt in why you do not finish your projects. I am too demanding of you. I do get jealous that you spend all your time on your own personal projects and school, and I am left to wait for you.
Please, just don't stop doing what you love.
N.K. says:
Ego is in direct relation to number of comments.
Windy says:
Interesting. It would be a shame to see you leave I, Revolutionary, if not to the lot of us than to yourself. This medium offers you the ability to extend your thoughts and feelings, outside of your everyday person, and you posses the unique ability to take advantage of that. If every reader should abandon you, I believe you should continue to write for your own sake. It's exceedingly difficult to disect and investigate one's thoughts, flaws, and feelings, as they fluctuate from moment to moment, but here are yours, pinned down, preserved exactly as they were the moment you sat down to record them, ready to be observed. These writings are about as far outside of the shell you find so distasteful as anything else I could think of.
As to your losing your place in your web comic, you shouldn't worry yourself. There should be no rush to find a permanent project to busy yourself with. There's still plenty of time to find your niche, furnish it to your liking, and make it something amazing.
In short, don't worry yourself over this.
And please do forgive my clumsy oration, I'm not as well-versed, or as well-practiced, as you are.
Oh, and next time you talk to this artist, or his minion, for that matter, tell him he's a windy fuck, for me, eh?
voh says:
I'm well-versed in writing too, and I'll display my prowess now.
This is poopy. You are poopy for wanting to give up. Poopy poopy doodiehead. Eww. Snrf.
Zachary Lewis says:
Wow. It's amazing hearing from people in various states of actually knowing me to all want me to keep going.
@Ashley:
Thanks. Just, thanks.
You've helped me along so much, and I wouldn't be who I am without you.
@N.K.:
No truer words have ever been spoken.
@Windy:
As much as people say they only write for themselves then post in a public medium with the possibility of comments, a small part of them is still sad that they don't get feedback.
Of course I would write for no one but myself, and I will continue henceforth.
Also, the bias in my writing is, as you so eloquently put it, "preserved exactly as they were the moment you sat down to record them, ready to be observed." Don't hate my co-author or his friend. I was upset when I wrote this. They are cool people, they just feel quite differently about the art than I do.
@Voh:
Thank you. I realize I am a total doodiehead, and I sure as hell don't want that poopy moniker. I'll work on it. :)
Windy says:
Heh heh, sorry, I didn't mean to offend. I guess it's easy to be angry at someone I don't know.
Zachary Lewis says:
Oh, it's quite alright.
Waf says:
Well, I really did my best for there to be no bad guy in this mess. There's a couple inaccuracies in the story that portray me in a worse light than reality, but in all honesty I don't really care how you guys feel about me. I'm far more concerned about how Zach feels about me, as he's been my friend for the better part of a decade, and I think at the end of the day that's far more important than when we butt heads.
At this point in time a little over a week after this mess Zach has been helping me move server stuff. We chat online. I'm making a Rubber Cement Guest Comic. For some reason I doubt Zach will ever leave the Internet for good, it's too much of who he is, maybe we should have a falling out more often so you people will leave some damn comments for the Zachman.
It's really not all gloom and doom. I'm not going to post my version of the story or add context because I don't see any need. Take Zach's story and make me out to be the guy with lots of hard decisions that constantly try to do the right thing for everyone that basically fails hard. That's my story and I'm sticking with it. Ultimately I believe that in the end, the more things change the more they stay the same. Zach's not leaving the Internet, no way in hell. Rubber cement is taking off. I'm sure he'd like to see where that goes. JaB will press on, and god willing Zach and I will continue to be friends for a long long time.
Austin says:
Zach, your writing inspires me.
I hope you don't stop blogging, because then where would I go back to? Blogger?
Good luck on the next project!
JackFan says:
Dude! What a shitty thing to say about your partner! Have a little fucking class and leave without bitching while pretending not to be.
Zachary Lewis says:
@Waf:
Your hidden eloquence is astonishing, and I really do take everything you say to heart. It makes me smile when I hear that you know that I will never leave the internet, and I'm really glad to know you and be your friend.
@Austin:
God, that would suck! I'll keep you here as long as I can, dude—Blogger won't claim yet another sad soul!
@JackFan:
Any real JAB fan would actually read stuff that was posted on the main page and realize that this is a journal entry, not what actually happened.
Geeze, give someone anonymity and they act like an asshat.
Austin Grismore says:
@The Asshat.
Pssh... asshat. Don't be saying crap like that dude, if you were a real fan you would support their decisions.
Lorna says:
I wonder if you check here anymore... they're idiots. i love your blog and your art.
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