The sleep.

For the past few days, I've been waking up a tired and light-headed individual, which leads to laziness spun and entangled in the very web of the day.

Point is, since the James Jean signing, I haven't been able to sleep well, think straight, or reverberate into a different thought without bouncing back to that oh-so wonderful day.

It is impossible to get him out of my head. I haven't even been able to get a decent quiet time with so many thoughts clouding up my mind and soon blasting what is left of my hallowed cranium to bits of glass.

Let me say though that every single thing he has said to us during the talk

has inspired me in ways no other fourteen-year-old would dare dream of.

I guess the chase for my dreams won't have to be so hard.

Just as long as I remember all he's said.

--

 I miss drawing Bob the crocodile comics.

Of all the comics I've made, only Bob seems to be the little buy that stands out and has ultimately become my best friend in situations known to life as we know it.

He's my inner katra, if you will--the Jiminy Cricket to my Pinnochio.

I guess he contributed a big part to every decision I've ever made. Like the James Jean signing, when I wondered when JJ's birthday was, Bob was right there flashing a "It was on his Twitter, remember?" card in my mind.

He's very helpful indeed.

And though I am already fourteen years of age, I have a pantheon of imaginary best friends the size of a mothership. It's quite weird, but when you're homeschooled and get bored every single day, all you have is imagination and your hands to guide you.

And I learned that from James Jean as well.