* i question myself constantly, especialy when it's "zine time" (meaning the when the urge to create strikes and gnaws at my ass).  i'm trapped in a creative limbo, a self-imposed catch 22.  the harder it gets to do this zine, to actually lay the ink and build the words, the more i want to do it.  i am indecisive and insecure but i am headstrong and proud of my work. just don't tell me you like it because i'll pick it apart and tell you the multitude of ways that you're wrong.  but when i'm in my room doing layout or something i'll think about what you said and i'll almost gloat in it.  that you said you like what i wrote and since what i wrote is me (or at least very closely connected to me)then you like me. why do you like me? why does my pen bleed for you and let you in to see this? *


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