Imagine a teenager, who becomes excruciatingly bored one day, decides to pick up and a pencil and paper one day.  He begins the “art process,” as his drawing teacher had once told him before he picked up the nerve to draw a rock, a pebble, no less.  He thinks.  He ponders.  He overthinks.  He overponders.  Until, he then gets tired of overthinking and overpondering of subjects to draw and resorts to DeviantART.com.

Don’t get him wrong, on any other day when he could think, he would have dove right into the paper, drawing whatever rubbish that manages its way to his head.  But on this day, and this day in particular, he lacks inspiration.  And, so, to “inspire” his creativity, he recourses to drawing people on DeviantART.

Keep in mind, however, that his artistic endeavors and talents only reside in the illustration of rocks and stick people.  So, when he came across a provoking image, he gasped.  He didn’t gasped because it was a provoking image.  Of course not.  He gasped because the actual THOUGHT of drawing the human form in any other medium OTHER THAN the treasured and highly honored form of stick people ran through his mind.  It was definitely worth gasping for.  And, yet, he went for it anyway.

And, this was the result:

(based off of “Mercy” by girltripped)

Gasp in horror as you witness the atrocities commited against the human anatomy and general shading. Gasp, I say! GASP!

Fueled from the shock of creating such a hideous monster embedded within paper (think: going through hours of labor and giving birth to a green Frankenstein baby, who cannot even change his own diapers, feed itself, or grow up into a mature adult without adult guidance), he made a commitment to better his drawing skills, in order to prevent something so abominable from being born ever again. He would not commit another sin against society, he promised.

Fast foward eight months and he still hasn’t made quite adequate progress.

However, during his trip to Europe during the later half of June, while on an unbelievably long plane ride (8 HOURS) and suffering from a case of jet lag, he could not sleep in the scrunched up position that the airline had suggested he snooze in (well, when one is restrained in coach during such a long flight, and chained to a seat that could not have been possibly built for human beings, let alone human beings with an actual spine, it was hard to assume otherwise), he opened an airline magazine and began drawing Leona Lewis from an advertisement. This was the result:

Inspired from the fact that she did not look half bad (nor an atrocity against the human anatomy either), he became proud of his work. Boastful, if you will.

And, with his newly inspired faith of being able to draw people in actual HUMAN FORM rather than his crappy version of humans, better known as stick people who often had one arm longer than the other and lacked proper shoes, he continued to draw. And, by the time he came back to the United States, this was what he had to show for it:

Even more proud than before, he reached an all-time high. Which is just an alternative way of saying his ego got bigger. And, with his inflated ego, he finished his most recent drawing with flagrant pride.

To this day, he still continues to draw, without a doubt in the world that he would give birth to a mediocre monster ever again. He now lives happily ever after in Canada, the land of unicorns, fairies, and vampiric soulmates, as a part-time journaliast, part-time web designer, part-time marine biologist, and part-time *insert practical job here*, with his puppy, acoustic guitar, camera, paper, and pencil.

THE END.

(Disclaimer: any material that was spoken of in the second to last sentence of this entry is entire fictional and should not be quoted on if questioning whether or not Canada really is the land of unicorns, fairies, and vampire lovers.  Although, the dude who wrote this in third person very much likes to think so.)