I should finish the inks on issue number 16 of Richy Vegas comics by the 21st or 22nd of next month. That would make for a four month turn around for this issue. That does not include the time I spent writing and laying out the text in pencil on the paper plates.
I wonder if the Legend of Richy Vegas is catching up with me again. When I returned home from graduate school in 1991, I would see people react to my presence in a weird way. It would depend on the person. There was this little punk rock guy named Mark who would look at me with a big smile and wide eyes when I went to G/M Steakhouse and he worked that night. He really stood out. It only began to make sense why he looked at me that way when I started breaking down a full year later during the Summer of 1992. Mark had long since gone by then. Where to, I don't know.
My medication works very well now. That's an advantage I have now that I didn't have then. During the Summer of 2016 I had a vision of another glorious chapter of the Legend of Richy Vegas. I was not psychotic, because the medication had that under control. I could drive a car, for example, or do anything else, really, and groove to "recovered memories" of this latest addition to the Legend of Richy Vegas.
In the Spring of 2016, I received that CD of the Invisible Woman's latest record along with a half pound of coffee beans. Then, that Summer I had that vision, and when my Badfinger CD came up missing a couple of days before New Year's Eve of that year, I connected the Invisible Woman to this vision, and figured that she knew about this latest chapter.
Anyway, once again, people in my world will sometimes look at me in a way that echoes the way that punk rocker Mark would look at me back in 1991. For years it was as if I wandered some desert aimlessly, particularly after my problems in 1995. I finally had a medication that took care of my symptoms, and I could tolerate the side effects okay, but I found myself grasping at straws as far as the Legend of Richy Vegas was concerned. Now, it feels like some kind of homecoming. If this thing in the world progresses in any way, the shit might really start to hit the fan in the foreseeable future. It's not anything I'm dreading, it just that I might be due for a big change.
I wonder if the Legend of Richy Vegas is catching up with me again. When I returned home from graduate school in 1991, I would see people react to my presence in a weird way. It would depend on the person. There was this little punk rock guy named Mark who would look at me with a big smile and wide eyes when I went to G/M Steakhouse and he worked that night. He really stood out. It only began to make sense why he looked at me that way when I started breaking down a full year later during the Summer of 1992. Mark had long since gone by then. Where to, I don't know.
My medication works very well now. That's an advantage I have now that I didn't have then. During the Summer of 2016 I had a vision of another glorious chapter of the Legend of Richy Vegas. I was not psychotic, because the medication had that under control. I could drive a car, for example, or do anything else, really, and groove to "recovered memories" of this latest addition to the Legend of Richy Vegas.
In the Spring of 2016, I received that CD of the Invisible Woman's latest record along with a half pound of coffee beans. Then, that Summer I had that vision, and when my Badfinger CD came up missing a couple of days before New Year's Eve of that year, I connected the Invisible Woman to this vision, and figured that she knew about this latest chapter.
Anyway, once again, people in my world will sometimes look at me in a way that echoes the way that punk rocker Mark would look at me back in 1991. For years it was as if I wandered some desert aimlessly, particularly after my problems in 1995. I finally had a medication that took care of my symptoms, and I could tolerate the side effects okay, but I found myself grasping at straws as far as the Legend of Richy Vegas was concerned. Now, it feels like some kind of homecoming. If this thing in the world progresses in any way, the shit might really start to hit the fan in the foreseeable future. It's not anything I'm dreading, it just that I might be due for a big change.
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