How I Crushed the Dreams of a Fourteen Year Old Boy

Words and images by David Finley

My fellow Scofflaws, and Ne'er-do-wells, I have a confession. 

 I crushed the dreams of a fourteen year old. Sadly, it's true, and to make matters worse, I did it with very little remorse.  

 Hey, that last sentence nearly rhymed! *ahem* As I was saying, there once was a fourteen year old boy who loved to draw. He would sit in his room, meticulously rendering the powerful muscles, and dynamic costumes of his favorite superheroes. There was Spiderman, and Batman, but his favorite heroes were always on teams that started with "X".

 Every day, he plotted, practiced, and dreamed of growing up to be a comic book artist. In fact, here is one of his drawings below:

Hey, it's Wolverine! Rawr! He is a property of Marvel Comics.
 Okay, so he was a little older than fourteen when he did this, but this drawing is over ten years old and will suffice for the purposes of this story.

 Yes, he had big dreams, indeed. Yet, one day a man came along and ruined them. That's right... Me! (Insert evil laugh here) You see, the man, (me) had very diabolical ideas of the life the young boy should lead. 

 For one, he, or rather I, felt like the boy should start paying more attention to the ladies. Secondly, the man introduced the boy to other artistic influences. Names like Jim Lee, Todd McFarlane, and Eric Larson began to give over to names like Auguste Renoir, Paul Klee, Pablo Picasso, and Kara Walker.

 Try as he might to rally back and fight me, life experience itself was on my side as I and a series of heartaches, tough experiences, and kicks to the teeth lead the young boy away from his passion.

 Before long, the boy and I were no longer separate, but instead one and the same. And, that is my confession of how I crushed the dreams of my fourteen year old self.

 But, is it that truly the end of the story?

Two go-getters ready to stomp the buttocks of baddies everywhere.
 For those of you who have ever read main stream superhero comics, you know that the heroes never truly stay dead. Likewise, that fourteen year old boy and his dreams resurface to remind me that he is still in there somewhere, and when that happens he takes control of my doodles.
Is that a dinosaur? Yes, it is.
Heroes wage war on evil, and stand up for the oppressed. The beleaguered masses have their champions to fight for the cause of good. The villains can no longer continue unabated with their selfish and nefarious plots...
"Here's your purse, ma'am."
...and, once more hope shines on the good citizens of the world. 

Maybe one day that boy will get his dream after all. Thanks for reading.

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