things that make you happy.
chasing the grey that was happiness.
As a child, she was surrounded by toys and play and simpleness in the form of
Nice smiles and single words describing one purpose, one single thing that everyone understood. Rules that were learned to be followed, like say "thank you" and "please". And when she forgot those, and landed in a heap of polite smiles to stern looks, "that's ok" and "please don't do it again", she cared because it was all she had ever known. Every feeling was just their single meaning; happy was happy and angry was angry, and sad was sad. But apart from that, she spent so many days and nights gazing at the sky and most of all, dreaming- isn't that all we ask for, our dreams touching our desire for it to be reality, the crinkle of twinkling eyes as it skims the all important barrier of dreams and reality constantly because we were content and simple and learning. We were so young.When she was a bit older, as she grew along with her figure and her mind, and that yet still was maturing. She knew many words and their meanings, she knew so many actions and consequences as she was like every single individual in the sea of our world, those very different puzzle pieces that you thought would fit into the picture, but as you cram and wedge it into place, you realise it might not ever truly fit. But in saying that we have that ability to change ourselves, for the better or the worst; as if that puzzle piece became more fluid, or stubbornly chipped by the repetition of experience, striking onto each being as they made mistakes, but also become pleasant in experiencing what satisfies found desire. In this tale, she came to know her role in this black and white dimension (if only it were that easy). She was one of the lucky ones.
She came to fit into it just enough so she was familiar of its intent. She eventually got used to it, and was that type of person to grow within it; to find new meaning and find it so complex that she understood it in hysterics. It may have consumed her so that her dreams inevitably changed, or never there only to develop in times of need and want. Perhaps it was selfish, but she started to fantasise about what she couldn't have, because there were too many meanings, and so many loopholes around the rules that were introduced to her not that long ago. She wanted that shining grey in between the black and white - because it was unpredictable. She started to build on this, think of a step ladder leading to a bridge that was so far and high that she had to build herself. She was brown in the sun, but she illuminated herself in her struggles as black was always stronger than the white.
Along the way, she could have been blown or broken away from anything, and so close towards her aspirations and the so-called dream that was so high and so far was when she met another, the most vivid in this course. They had so much common that it was blinding to mistake their wavelength and relationship as the grey she was looking for; perhaps because he was looking for it too. At the start she fought hard to not think of it nothing more as not what she was looking for, but really it could have been, so she fell. But it was way too slow and too late before she realised, as she fell down to a different course because that's what happens. A journey as blooming flowers blown by the wind, small little things building up like the snowball effect as she chases down the rabbit hole. Which effectively in a wonderland been going up as she decides her fate, as her steps start getting slower with every decision cementing her place in stone for long lasting times - as she realises, he and the grey was just before her reach. But you know the snowball effect? It was catching up to her as her old roots struggle to sway and move like in her youth, and all she can do is will nothing to move further; desperately she struggles and that becomes her ending as the only thing she can do is stand tall and steady in finality; like a tree, still with her leaves of life still rustling, the sap of her tears by her woody trunk as she stands there, watching on.
Author's notes:
- Cue the end - "standing frozen like Anna in frozen as she turns to a statue of ice" lol.
- when you realise after this you'll have a prompt from a prompt :0
YOU ARE READING
Raw and no edits
Random~ will change later writing regularly to practice writing my thoughts out, for no self judging and improvement. Of course a prompt driven. Hope you like it ! p.s, if anyone was wondering, that is definitely a pathetically drawn astronaut on the cov...