Junkyard / Pages 14-20

 A delirium of reality-dissolving non-sequiturs continues...

Junkyard / Pages 1-13

A junkyard of twice-broken dreams, disfigured thoughts and unfinished sentences, on the outskirts of the Unknown. The deliberate dissonance of images from the hyper-conscious mind of an unreliable narrator. Liquid identities, through the mirror, down the rabbit hole, ever-deeper...

First 13 pages of my recently started experimental / brazenly intuitive comic titled JUNKYARD.

F Mode

Fog, fish, film, fear, freak, flame, final, flower, future, fetish, fertile, forever, freedom, fantasy, fortitude, fascination, forgiveness, forgetfulness, fragmentation... All of these and great many other words start with F, and hold different meanings marked by futility when it comes to expressing what cannot be fathomed. From the foam of their failure, fanciful imagery is born and flourishes in spite of the formidable forces...

In the illusion of a distant universe,
Perverse thoughts traverse the emptiness.

There’s a lot of walking and thankfully not much talking,
And the beautiful dream of... What is the dream about?

Oh yes, half-born, half-dead,
With a thorn inside its head,

It grows and it knows that there are no words,
There is no Sun - only the third Moon
And the proximity of distance...

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Exhausted Peace

A short comic I created for the contest of the 16th International Comics Festival which will be held in Belgrade, 27th - 30th September, 2018.

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A Hellenistic Travesty on 22 28

I am very pleased to announce that my short collage-comic A Hellenistic Travesty is being promoted on Twenty-Two Twenty-Eight (multimedia, publishing and curation), and I wish to express my sincere gratitude to Ms. Jennifer Barnick and Ms. Rose Smith for making this possible. Check the link provided below:

A Hellenistic Travesty on Twenty-Two Twenty-Eight

(a detail from the fourth page)

Unhelp This Soul

An abbreviated deconstruction of the Medusa myth.

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7 Loves of a Four-Armed Man

Initially, there was a loopy misunderstanding.

He said: "I shall come next week to fix your new lavabo. Don’t worry for the gravedigger's widow."

And with the confidence of a first-grade teacher, she replied: "Those boiled carrots you brought last year had the taste of lost dreams. Please, save the duckling from drowning in the shadow's leftovers."

Their chandelier wouldn't have broken and the Reverend-Referee would have christened the Light Ghost, if they had released the baby goats and their father – the Mother of A – from a little hole in the southern radiator.

Instead, they left for the Oracle where a fat Virgin-Cat had been guessing one's favorite prime numbers and eternal desires. The Sun of Three Crystals had to fall, because it was the only way to find another day.
 

"I can, Tas." – he whispered into her ear...

Tonal Disproportion of a Sugar Cube

No Silver Cutlery for Siren's Silence

A Pretty Hole to Unchain Your Soul

Square Is a Square, Mon Amie!

Aerodynamic Horse Leaves for a Harbor

Can You Fix the Boiler, Chap?

Imaginary Gods Care Not for Sapience

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A Hellenistic Travesty

A neo-Dadaist phantasy which acts as a meeting point of hyper-dreams, Greek mythology, Brutalist edifices, homoerotic provocations and fairy tale leftovers. It is 19 degrees of freedom, 71 squares of subconscious and 10 beats per (un)holy moonlight.

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Original size: 4 x A3 (29,7 x 42cm)

O (of Lights and Parasites)

Only nothing has the shape of truth,
an amorphous dream of falling through.

Only shadows sing of the divine
- an endless sorrow and a flying swine.

Only the Unborn will eat these nights,
as I sell my soul to lights and parasites.
 

© Nikola Gocić
 

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Original size: 4 x A3 (29,7 x 42cm)

Oui Ennui

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Auf Wiedersehen, Daemonika

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