She's just trying to work things out. Just like everyone else. But in my heart, I know I've lost her -- maybe not for good, but definitely for now. Mary Jane seems like a world away. And I can't help wondering, is it me? Am I the stranger in this relationship?
- Paul Jenkins, Spider-Man #44

"My Name's Paul and This is 'Tween Y'all"
Mr. Jenkins has gotten a lot of play on the old blog quote section of late. So much so that if I'd just graduated high school and was going to be going to college in the fall, I think I'd end up starting a Paul Jenkins Message Board instead of the classic Joe Kelly. Am I different then? Is that a change? Have I grown up or down or something?

"I'd Like to See What the Papers Say On the State of Spider-Man 2"
You know what depresses me?

If I die falling from the top of some parking garage in Columbia, everyone will assume that I was just suicidal, and not that I really just wanted to stand on a ledge and look down on this town and think to myself deep, brooding thoughts like No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, the ones I love will always be the ones who pay, and Am I not supposed to have what I want? I want a life of my own. I am Spider-Man no more, but lost my balance and fell to my death because I'm a clumsy idiot.

It depresses me because I'm not really all that sure people wouldn't realize the truth, and I don't know whether or not the fact that I'm less likely to just kill myself and more likely to die trying to live out some amazing fantasy makes me less crazy or more so.

"Return of the Dragon"
When I went to bed last night -- which was actually this morning, because for some reason, I've been staying up late enough to watch Full House when it closes out Nick at Nite's programming block -- I told myself that I was going to get up early and get stuff done, but when my alarm clock went off, I knew I wasn't going to be able to wake up and love the world all over again.

"A Boesky, a Jim Brown, a Miss Daisy, Two Jethros, and a Leon Spinks. Oh, and Lest We Forget: the Biggest Ella Fitzgerald Ever"
Mephisto took me and Prewitt to the Twilight Festival, and when we were walking past an artist booth where you could get $9 portraits, Prewitt really wanted to have his own booth, and I thought it'd be great if I had a booth next to him where I was drawing stick figure portraits for fifty-cents a pop.

You know what idea really got us excited, though? If we started working the festival as grifters. I really liked the idea of the two of us picking pockets and swiping pottery, and swindling old Columbia hippies out of their hard-earned hash cash. We'd wear cheesy disguises like fake beards and goofy glasses and use bad accents. (Does anyone else remember when I lost it sophomore year, and started talking in that crazy southie accent and insisted on being called Rufus? Goddamn mock trial.) What would have been really great about it, however, is that our big adversary in our criminal endeavors would be Officer Fitzpatrick, a keen-as-hell constable with a shock of red hair and a handlebar mustache who'd happen upon our shenanigans, swinging his billy club playfully and saying, "Well, well, well, if it ain't callous Caleb Prewitt and his little darky houligan friend. Up to a spot of trouble, eh lads?" and we'd say "Good evening Officer Fitzpatrick. We love you Officer Fitzpatrick," in a crazy sing-song voice before we'd run off with him chasing after us in the weekly wacky though daring escape scene. The funny thing about it, though, is that Fitzpatrick wouldn't actually work for the Columbia Police Department as much as he'd just be some guy from New York City, circa 1886. And in the end, our playful adversarial relationship would take a turn for the worst when he'd catch us, and take us to the outskirts of Columbia and force us to dig our own shallow graves while watching over us with a shotgun in hand?

Would this be the end of our wacky madcap schemes? Only time would tell...

"Christina's World"
Also during last night's festivities, Prewitt took us into some art shop on Ninth Street, and I ran afoul of some Brian Andreas prints. You know, like

I have too much to lose, she said, if I cross that line. Like what? I said. She could not think of anything that day so she said she'd get back to me. Since then I've been thinking what I would lose if I cross my line & I haven't come up with anything either. There's always another line somewhere.

and that old classic

I saw them standing there pretending to be just friends, when all the time in the world could not pry them apart.

I flipped through these prints for a while, and I thought about it, and I think my favorite issue of Preacher is 48. It's Jesse's last day in Salvation, and he says goodbye to everybody and he just does it all so beautifully. Like his long-lost mother, who's really depressed that her boy's leaving her, and she says that it's a hard old world, and Jesse tells her it really isn't so bad, but that he hasn't cried since that day in the corn twenty years earlier and there are times he really comes close.

"The Children's Crusade"
Maria was trying to get this babysitting job, but she needed someone to watch the kids while she was in class, and for some reason, she wanted me to do it, and for some other reason, I didn't think this was something beyond me, so I said sure.

Apparantly, this kid gig's not going to work after all, but she called yesterday to see if I still wanted to do it, and I realized that I'd have to do it all on my own with no help ever, and I couldn't not be depressed anymore.

"I Can See Clearly Now, But I Miss the Rain"
I think I can see things a lot more clearly than I ever have before, but it doesn't seem to help me any. I see so much more now, but I still don't see how to make the broken things work.

I see things I never thought I'd see and I do things I never thought I'd do and some of it's wonderful and some of its awful but it still seems real.

And from a distance it still seems so simple.

"Venom"
Bendis:
"I'm so scared."
"I know."
"This isn't a normal life, Peter. These aren't normal things."

Jenkins:
I always thought I was trying to play hero. Maybe all along I've been trying to play God. I heare two seperate minds inside a single body. Eddie and the symbiote are reunited for good now, and they share a new purpose; to protect their offspring. As Venom, they slip away under cover of night, headed for an uncertain future along with the rest of us.

I can't help wondering, what have I done?

Did I just solve a problem, or create one? Did I just save Eddie Brock's life? Or did I just send him to Hell?

Clark:
I usually feel like I'm losing it, but it feels like it's been lost now and I want it back.