Sitting in his sweatpants, the rainbow thought about how he wanted to try something different with his life. He wanted to create, and feel the joy of art as he got awareness about something he cared about. In the past, the rainbow was to take planned out clases in school like karate and math, enclosing him into a unhappy routine. His eating dissorder did not help either. He was lifeless-and this caused him to block other people away from him. The constant pushing away of people was exhausting. This was killing him, eating him front the inside out. He couldn't trust anyone. He found himself unable to get help with his life. The rainbow acted as if the whole world was against him.
Now, the media was sucking life out of humanity, bit by bit. The structured living style was caving the population in. You were taught to get a 9-5 job that pays well, find a hot model wife, and reproduce the endless blur of the already overpopulated world. Our lives were planned out and chosen for us.
But, he wanted to change that. He was iching to put forth his own weight and try to make something of his short life.
So right there, on the floor of his one room apartment, he placed the tip of his pencil onto the paper and began.
12/9/14
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts
Short StoryThis is where I write whatever comes to my head. Not interesting. Or worth your time. In fact, you shouldn't be here anyway. This is for me, because I am a twat. There is no point in me writing this. An existential crisis awaits.
