Seera Sea

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Artist Name	Seera Sea
Age	35
Location	Loveland, United States
Number	517516
Paintings	1 View gallery

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About Seera Sea

I was born on October 27th, sometime in the future, in an old abandoned gum factory. I was a pretty normal child, until one fateful day on my 3rd birthday, where after setting the house on fire and throwing the cake at a girl, whom I found to be quite insufferable, I went skipping down to the river for some me time (aside from tea time, it’s the only time worth having). That’s when I met him… the first boy I’d ever kill. Now I know what you‘re thinking, “You killed someone? That‘s horrible!” but, in my defense, women are supposed to suck the life out of everything, it‘s just what they do, not to mention the fact that he was an EMO… and EMOs aren‘t really people, just spineless blobs of salt water and complaints. Anyways, as I made my way down the bank, I came across a boy sitting on a rock. At the time I didn‘t know he was stuck in some faux form of depression, as his short, black hair covered most of his face. But as I drew closer I heard an odd crying sound coming out from his lips, it was not unlike the sound you hear when playing Pacman. So I slowly sat down beside him, looked at him and said, “Hey grumpy mc-grump-grumps, what's got you down in the grumps? Did Mr. and Mrs. grump send you a grump-o-gram?". Needless to say, my effort at cheering him up did not succeed, as his crying became deafening. I wondered if I should continue to try and cheer up the poor boy, until I noticed that his cries were making my ears bleed. So, instead, I took it upon myself to see how far I could push him… which apparently was about mid-way into the river. Fortunately for me, EMOs aren‘t the best of swimmers, so instead of continuing to cry a river, he just drowned in one. After that day I changed, mainly because I had gotten water all over my clothes., but I had also grown mentally (probably to even out the fact that I had shrank morally). And every year, on my birthday, I commemorate that boy’s death by going out and throwing rocks at people that look like him. The years then passed quite quickly after that, and suddenly I was 17, my dad was criminally insane (in his defense, fathers don’t really accomplish much with their children, except passing on genetic disappointment), and my mother bed-ridden with a terminal case of the heeby-jeebies. Near the end of her string, I went and met with the village witch doctor, to see if there was anything I could do. “I’m afraid the only cure of the dreaded heeby-jeebies is a medicine, whose most important ingredient is the rarest berry in all the world… fortunately for us, that berry does grow around here. But I warn you, my child, you will have to battle through many obstacles, that will cause you many hardships.” the crazy old wench said. “Hush, you crazy old wench!” I replied as I slapped her harshly across the face. “ And listen to MY poem of wisdom: The obstacles will only be hard, If I want them to be. Because everyone knows, The world revolves around me!” And like always, I was right. The journey, that was supposed to be one that defied the ages, took me five minutes, and required the mere strength of being able to walk up and down a thousand hills of a thousand lifetimes of a thousand different cliché phrases. So after I killed the old hag, and drank her blood, I brought the medicine to my mother, who got better and spontaneously combusted simultaneously. Stricken with shock, from just seeing someone burst into flames for no apparent reason… oh yea, and my mother’s death, I roamed the earth and did what any decent person would; I got a Job.