Seungho sighs, because Chulyong's been drinking, and incessant and obnoxious questions are the first thing that comes with Chulyong drinking.
"I just do, okay? I just do." His fingers are at the bridge of his nose, nursing a migraine that may or may not be forming, and this is a very obvious signal that this line of questioning needs to end (now).
Of course, the younger boy doesn't take the hint, and maybe he's trying to be a brat or maybe he just doesn't catch it (since he doesn't exactly know how to communicate like 'normal people'), but this time he creeps even closer, his eyes wide and suspicious. "How can you be sure I'm not just a figment of your imagination, a schizophrenic delusion?"
Seungho doesn't bother sighing again; he can recognize a useless waste of energy when he sees it. So he just shifts a bit as the other boy settles against his thighs (and this is the second thing that comes with Chulyong drinking).
"Because if this really were the work of my imagination, I certainly wouldn't have created you."
I think the best comics (like the best novels, paintings, etc.) are personal, idiosyncratic works that reflect a unique and honest sensibility. To attract and keep an audience, art must entertain, but the significance of any art lies in its ability to express truths - to reveal and help us understand our world.
The best comics expose human nature and help us laugh at our own stupidity and hypocrisy. The best comics, that is to say, are fun house mirrors that distort appearances only to help us recognize, and laugh at, our essential character- istics.
When I come up with an idea that surprises me, I'm happy to offer it to anyone who shares my interests. I'm flattered when people respond to my work, but I don't feel accountable to public demand. Trying to please people encourages calculation, and the strip is valuable to me only insofar as it's honest and sincere.