Ranting of kings
Yesterday my sister imposed on me a movie called "garage mystery" or something (turns out it's based on a book). The story is about a nosy woman that owns a thrift shop and loves to go to various flea markets to find stuff to resell at an higher price.
You would think this is some kind of romantic comedy, well wrong, because somehow she convinces the detective of her ward that numerous crimes that occurred there are associated with the flea markets. People die in this town and probably wouldn't have if she just behaved, but the movie reeeally wants us to believe that on top of her intuitive and lovable personality she's also got a loving family, a beautiful house and an husband (an engeneer... of what, only God knows) with specs so big he could smash a can of beer between them. I have to point out that this lady goes to every man's house with homemade food, gives appointments in very flirty ways and her husband isn't in any way bothered, a tad irrealistic but refreshing to see.
I feel like this is probably the dream life of any middle aged woman of this century. Going to flea markets in the light of day, solving crimes in the moonlight. Why do 60 something women love dead people so much?
My mother loves death so much she goes multiple times a week to see the undertaker's shop window, telling me "it's the only display that changes often in this town". Sometimes I wonder if she would care about me more if I was dead.
I speak to multiple people on a surface level because of my job, but my mother is the only close one I can talk to. With talking I mean she gives me orders and judges the out come. When I protest she replies that I am a difficult person to have to deal with. I don't have any friends in my town, and my father is nothing but a presence.
Given the circumstances, it's no wonder I sometimes would like to disappear. Nothing flashy, just becoming a sparkle of dust or something. I wish I could not live as much in my head, as I fear of becoming egocentric, but there's so little I can do about it. I would like to be a better friend, be more present, having interesting things to say, but it's so difficult when the only person around me keeps remembering how flawed I am, how no one would love to spend time with me. So, often, I become a ghost not knowing what to do. Should I vent to my friends? I don't want them to hate me for being sad.
One thing I realized thought is I need people to tell me how they feel. How they really feel. If I ask "how are you" I truly mean it. I don't want to be pushy and solve the life of others at all costs, but I need to experience genuine emotions to feel like I'm needed on this planet. I can't live of small talking anymore.
So, about this comic I want to draw. It's a story about a (car?) race set in an post apocalyptic Earth. A woman without a license really wants to drive as a hobby. She tries many diy solutions (a bike, a skateboard) in her free time, until she accidently finds an alien car relict to drive in the race. Alien cars need no license I guess. Will she win the race? Would someone read this shit? I don't know, but I watched a movie about thrift shops crimes and had feelings about it, so one can dream.
Neph off