Journal 1.

My name is Sticky.

Or at least, that's the most recent one.

My artist changes it quite frequently, but only because they want to find the 'perfect one.' And as of now, that's Sticky.

Also, I'm a stick figure. If you couldn't guess by the name, and lack of proper experience in writing. It gets boring when I'm not doodled on the corner of math homework, or etched onto the side of a desk( often too close to a wad of ABC gum), so as a declaration of my individuality as a stick figure, I began a journal to keep track of the hours that go by when the artist is busy or lazy. Most of the time its the latter.

Don't get me wrong, I have no ill intent towards the artist, but I've heard them think it themselves, "I'm so goddamn lazy today." In fact when it comes to the artist I know for a fact they quite often lack any kind of motivation of any sort and just lay with their face down on the soft thing called a bed.

But when they do conquer up the energy to put effort into drawing, I am for sure, their #1 fan (also maybe their only fan). But not just because their pencil and mind is the only reason I exist but because I've become quite fond of their art that isn't just in stick form. Sometimes I'm able to glimpse at it from the other side of the paper, its often of faces- pretty faces with ranges of emotion showing, but quite often more so over on the sad side rather than the bubbly happy side.

With that said, I just now happen to see the artist picking up a pen right now, (odd because they normally don't start in pen.) I suppose that's it for this entry, I hope to write more soon.

-Sticky