Harold and the Pirates

Who wants to read my new comic? Better yet, who wants to draw it?

Harold and Pirates script

Harold and the Pirates by Jason Peal is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.
Based on a work at Harold and the Pirates.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at theatherofjps.com.

Mirrored from Theater of JP's Mind.

How long do I have to practice guitar before I can become a pretentious asshole?

How long do I have to practice guitar before I can become a pretentious asshole? How long before I can develop a cocaine addition? How long before I can play the g chord and d chord without this embarrassing pause in between?

I like to sit at home and serenade my cats with the gentle plucking of my dad’s old Brazilian guitar. I have been practicing for a while now, playing classical guitar exercises from a long dead Mr. Frederick Noad. It sounds nice enough, but I would love play something someone has heard of instead of exercise 27. I want to learn to play acoustical versions of Chumba Wumba to widen the cat’s musical tastes.

I also like to study the universe lately. Sitting on my bed, I can hold my Ipad in one hand and keep the boys from fighting with the other. The universe appears to be a massive, pointless, exercise in things. This makes me happy; because when bad things happen to me, I know it’s nothing personal.

I spend most afternoons with my girl doing things, money things, lovey things, cleany things.

It’s a life made up of infinite slices of instances, little experiences all holding hands. It’s a good life and I am glad she is with me for this leg of it.

I’ve been writing again, working on a comic book script, looking at stories., creating a wordpress blog. Maybe I will be famous some day. Maybe, but lately I feel that I am at maximum social capacity.

Every time I talk to my dad and I tell him that I am going out for the evening, he says “You have friends?”. He says this because in my other life with my ex-wife, I had no friends. We didn’t even have fake ones. The ex-wife hated people. I hate people too, but love them as individuals. This creates the odd dichotomy, where I beg for the gamma ray burst to wipe out humanity and worry about my friends at the same time. I am such an extreme introvert that it sometimes feels like I am driving an aging JP bot around my life.

Introverts need alone time to recharge our social points,unlike the extroverts of the world, My girl keeps me from isolating myself, which is a good thing. Still, when the night is quiet and it’s just me inside my head, there can be a certain terrifying sense of peace. It’s weird how that works.

Mirrored from Theater of JP's Mind.