So you think their just doodles, huh? No face, no hands just doodles. Well you don’t know the half of it. These poor guys don’t even have names, their the forgotten hangmen and note book doodles of the world. They take refuge like insects inside scrap paper in garbage cans and behind posters or pretty much where ever they won’t be erased. These people don’t have much to love, their drawn with out thought, or purpose and no individuality what so ever out side one having a face or hands every now and again. Their homes are as simple as they can get. A square a triangle a rectangle and a circle. Its not much but it’s what they call home. What about food you ask? Well how would they eat if they have no mouth? They have nothing to do, they live only because their there.

Lets just hope that, that isn’t us one day. We should never let ourselves be just one of a million. But one in a million.