The Stroking Of A Bohemian

by somebodyudunno

Felix Kjellberg an infamous painter in the state of Europe entering numerous galleries and grabbing awards with his psychedelic works, the crowd now adores him which leads him on living up to their expectations. As he goes finding a quick escape to his dilemma he stumbles upon someone he can't find.

I don't believe on freedom of expression, in the end we'll always get oppressed and oppressed. Conveying your emotions and letting everything aside doesn't necessarily lead to good things. Even though he is one of the good things, I don't have the heart to deny that but I do have the heart to say he is one of the worst things that I've stumbled upon in my whole life. His stupid voice and his stupid pecan hair, but then again those we're the things that made me think that I've had the luxury most people don't have. Acceptance.

"Felix, let's go already," A high pitched voice whined, knocking impatiently on my door, disturbing my sweet solitude. I'm sure of the fact that he's wearing another blue hoodie of his. Sean's a nice man but he gets annoying sometimes, it's amazing that he can put up with me though. I'm amazed I can put up with me.

"I'll be out in a second," I replied, and shut my laptop, the knocking stopped. "I'll be waiting outside." He cheerfully said and left. I drop my paintbrush in the glassful of water with the rest of it and did a quick look on myself on the mirror. My stubble's getting longer, too lazy to shave it. Hair is a mess, a cap can fix that. I look like I haven't slept for the past week, sleep on the movies. Since I got my look and schedule done, I grabbed what I needed and walked out of the room. My dumb pug was waiting for me outside my door and I have to admit to myself that that made him look shitty. I picked up the dog and carried him to the living room as he licks my cheek.

Sean was seated on one of the couches he heard my footsteps, he turned to my direction with his lips curled up to a smile, "You ready?" I nodded and gently dropped the licorice colored dog.

I led him to my car and we drove off.

I keep my eyes on the road, placing my whole effort on not glancing on the side to see who I'm with but I went against myself and checked. It isn't him. I know I shouldn't be disappointed, after all, what more could I ask for? Sean's been being a good friend and making me go out than letting me rot in my room painting a blank canvas.

I should be happy.

But I'm not.