The Tale of the Stick Man

Once there was a Stick Man who lives in Stick Country with all his Stick Friends.

The Stick Man likes to walk around in Stick Country and stick his nose in all kinds of stick – y stuff.

In one of these nose – sticking hunts, he found a ‘Magazine’ with non – stick-y people on the pages.

He was so jealous of these non – stick-y people and all their shapes and curves that he vowed to do all in his power to stop being stick-y and start being like those magazine people – shape-y.

So he started his non – stick-y quest…

And set out on a journey to “Magazine Country”!

After 48,000 years…

As he entered its gates,

He went back to the gates and saw a sign posted:

And so, with a great incredulity, the stick man found out that the object of his desires…

*The original image of Chloe (girl with the blue-green hair) courtesy of http://lickthestranger.wordpress.com/

Prologue

I learned one new fact of life today.

Happiness Patient J.D. Unresponsive to ECT, Depressant Serum

It seems that as you age you continuously experience new stages of self – discovery. What you think of yourself when you were 18, however certain you were about it at that point in your life, will almost never be the same when you turn 25.

Boo-yah.

Some people say they have been self – assured early in life, but I don’t believe it. Because life changes you, it is a factory where we are all products that need to be  upgraded and enhanced regularly. And those that cannot be changed turn out to be inappropriate and are sure to belong in the bin labeled rejects.

So it’s surprising to me how, say, a piece of literature with a theme concerning self – discovery could be limited only to a category of teen/young adult literature. Ironic, since you can see middle – aged individuals certainly still uncertain about their own identities.

But why do I concern myself with these things?

You see, I plan to experience different things from what I have always been doing – it simply fails to give me a sense of happiness. I am not so proud as to want happiness per se, I merely want a sense of it. There was just no passion (yes, that’s the right word) in what I am used to do.

And lack of passion (or excess of it)  is in fact deadly. It has ended the lives of many notable men, and women of course.

That is why I am about to make this blog  a sort portfolio of the things I would love to AND would do – pictures, stories, social commentaries, rants, random idiocy – and it doesn’t mean it would be in a chronological order. I’m so bored with chronological.

Who isn’t?

*An image I particularly like one googling session. Courtesy of thingsweforget.blogspot.com (obviously :p).