The absolute joy of having been a bullying victim for several years in a row during your developmental years, is that one small mean comment about your art from another student can make you cry and possibly have a full-blown anxiety attack, then have recurring nightmares, and also have a sudden feeling of dread the moment you’re about to draw the part you were made fun of for while making other drawings... all while you’re pushing your mid-20s!
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desire to draw raz's hair unhatted and uncombed spiraled into imagining an extended gag about some emergency situation forcing all of the psychonauts out of the motherlobe into the quarry in their jammies at like 2 am and judging each other's clothing choices instead of getting actual work done.
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