Colour. Colours. Endless colours. I wish I had them all. Blues and greens and purples ... the neons the flourescent the glowing ... all of them ... more of them ...
I would splash it on all the walls around me. I would make people colourful. Everybody. Everywhere. I would scream ... and yell ... and destroy things.
I'd make new things ... and paint them.
...
And yet, as I write this, everything around me is colourless ... empty.
I would splash it on all the walls around me. I would make people colourful. Everybody. Everywhere. I would scream ... and yell ... and destroy things.
I'd make new things ... and paint them.
...
And yet, as I write this, everything around me is colourless ... empty.
5 comments:
What's up, old son? I'm willing to bet the colors are there - if you know how to find them. That then begs the question - are you okay>
Sometimes I crave colour like I'm hungry, famished. It's like I can't have enough of it, like I need it to fill an emptiness in me.
Lou, my man, all is well. Just a little unhappy with the current circumstances. Things need to change and I'm working on it. Slowy. But surely.
queenie, I often feel the same way. I'm not sure what it is, but I find colours ever so comforting.
Don't sweat it, Neutron, you're like a rainbow.
Er, you might be a little too young to get that Stones reference.
Uh, you're probably too young to know who the Rolling Stones are, so I'm just going to quit and molder here in the corner.
Thanks Cormac! And no worries, I'm totally with you!!
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