Sunday, 7 February 2010


Anyone who has hung out with me in the past few months will know that I've not been quite myself, I have been frequently having panic attacks and have been off my food pretty bad. There has been something weighing on my mind with such dense potency that I have barely been able to sleep or even leave my bed. I have spoken to FRANK and my College Counsellor and neither of them knew what to do, I considered turning to Islam but after reading the Quran front to back it left me more bewildered than before, and that is pretty fucking bewildered.
It dawned on me in the past few days that there was really only one thing that I could do, and that was to tackle my demons head on. There is only so long that a person can feel sorry for themselves for before it gets a little self indulgent, in my case I stretched this out for about 6 weeks longer than is generally considered acceptable. I spent hours and hours compiling lists about why what happened wasn't my fault. Ultimately I was fooling myself.
After filing for extenuating circumstances for my next assessment at HELLSMERE SCHOOL OF ART AND CRIME I chose to lock myself in my room with a pen and paper with no exit until I had made my wrongs right..
I have found it easier to talk about in recent days, though I am still more comfortable putting my thoughts in writing . I can think of only a few moments in my life where I have reflected on my actions and been shocked and appalled, it really made me question everything...
The moment in question I am referring to happened on the 18th of January I believe, I was asked by a good friend to draw Captain Richard Sharpe and what flowed from my pen was not the rugged northern charms of one of television's finest characters but the liquid shit of Satan himself. There are to be no excuses for what I drew that night and I apologise to everyone who has had to see the image in question. I have decided against destroying the heinous portrait for reasons maybe only I can truly understand, after all, if it ever got out into the outside world I would surely suffer much trepidation at the hands of my peers and the rest of the world. I would at least lose my sponsorship from Daler Rowney.
So it is today that I can finally present my first drawing of Sharpe that doesn't make me want to gouge my eyes out, flatten them onto the soles of my shoe and stamp repeatedly on my nerve endings until all feeling has gone all the while being repeatedly hung until dead.
Maybe I wont burn in hell for all eternity after all.

Actually that ones pretty shit too.

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