As a woman at the gate of her thirties who has used up slightly over half of her period of fertility using imprecise and outdated metrics for the sake of argument, I find myself returning to Homestuck, I quite like Homestuck and I have since I first read it however returning to it i feel something else. Yes that appreciation is still there i reread the comic just last year I enjoyed it quite a lot. However when i come to this from the perspective of a hypothetical artist, a hypothetical mother, i fixate on one single thing, the comics corpse, Some may find my use of the term corpse offensive and I understand that, however i do not mean this in a disparaging sense i swear to you, i mean it in the sense that for me, and i think quite possibly the majority of people who will ever read it it is finished after all we have finished it. Its purpose is served and a body with no purpose is a corpse. Yes the corpse has many children, many are interesting in their own right or bare a striking resemblance to the corpse, it is a beautiful corpse and yet it still disgusts me.
I think motherhood and artistry are fundamentally the same, an act of destruction, an idea will always be perfect, kept in a little vault untainted never used up, when you birth that idea it will be bloody it will be messy And no matter what, just then as you have given this newborn purpose, you have set the course for its inevitable death. A purpose will always be served and after that nothing but death lies. I myself am a destroyer, and i find myself often marveling at the beauty of Homestuck's corpse, its ecosystem, death is inevitable and immortality is complacency a total lack of ambition, already lacking purpose a premature corpse. I do not particularly have a conclusion.
After all, having used up half my time i have borne no children in fact i have spent most of said time attempting to make such a thing impossible, and i have yet to make any great work of art.And yet in the face of such a beauty how can i not but act upon my own purpose bring myself closer to my end, and embark upon an act of destruction And with this realization i have chosen to put pen to paper, i suppose i may also get pregnarnt.
-Psuedonymously R.L
