She Dreams in Colors. Colors and spectrums, filling her world the way she wants it to be. She hates the world, with all it's pale, dusty colors and cold feelings. She never stopped wondering how all these people are living, and if they're really living or just breathing. And if they breathe, do they breathe the air they want to breathe? Or are they just completing the so-called routine of life because they cannot die or don't know how, though they want to. She never stopped wondering how this world could be another beautiful one, and how it simply could. How this world is underrating the most beautiful things, the most honorable feelings to be felt, and the most perfect little things.
'This world is overrated', she said to herself, thinking about the people that are thought to be living happily, are they even happy? Or is is some other kind of lie like the every-day lies everyone tells. Like that silly little smile everybody's carrying around in order not to be asked how they're doing and then they have to lie and say 'good' though they're not. The smile everyone' carrying around in order not to be asked what's wrong and then they would just tear up, break down, and burst out all they want to say then just be called 'over-dramatic, over-reacting..' and whatsoever society wants to label them with. This world is overrated, no-one is actually happy though everyone is claiming to be.
'This world is so empty', she said to herself. Thinking how many people are filling the most crowded cities, yet no-one is there for anyone. How many people are breaking down, how many people have faced a terrible thing throughout their day, how many people have been through a break-up, lost someone special due to this so called sad thing, death. How many people are feeling empty, feeling 'a hole' and none who feels 'whole.' How many people are swallowing all the things they want to say, beautiful or ugly words, cold or tender, everything;in fear that they might lose that person . Emptiness. This world is empty, empty from hearts and feelings.
'This world is like a prison', she said to herself. Thinking how many people are imprisoned in their minds, how many talents are imprisoned in those minds. How many ideas, theories, stories, paintings, music, solutions.. and the list goes on; how many of those are imprisoned in minds of people who are too afraid to let them out, because of the world. Because they think they're not quite good enough, though they might be the best. How many people are screaming from the inside with ideas, how many people are about to blow from the bunch of things kept in their minds; because society, people, and the world won't ever hear. How a painting that could show peace is imprisoned in the artist's mind just because he thinks it'll be underrated. How a piece of writing could change the way people think about something, because the writer is too afraid people won't understand. A lot of things are imprisoned inside everyone's minds because of education, because of that line we're walking through, not knowing where we're going or why; not knowing if even that's what we will be successful at but we keep on moving because society. This world is like a prison, prisoned minds. She hates this world, this empty, overrated world that is prisoning all the things she wants to say.
'This world is overrated', she said to herself, thinking about the people that are thought to be living happily, are they even happy? Or is is some other kind of lie like the every-day lies everyone tells. Like that silly little smile everybody's carrying around in order not to be asked how they're doing and then they have to lie and say 'good' though they're not. The smile everyone' carrying around in order not to be asked what's wrong and then they would just tear up, break down, and burst out all they want to say then just be called 'over-dramatic, over-reacting..' and whatsoever society wants to label them with. This world is overrated, no-one is actually happy though everyone is claiming to be.
'This world is so empty', she said to herself. Thinking how many people are filling the most crowded cities, yet no-one is there for anyone. How many people are breaking down, how many people have faced a terrible thing throughout their day, how many people have been through a break-up, lost someone special due to this so called sad thing, death. How many people are feeling empty, feeling 'a hole' and none who feels 'whole.' How many people are swallowing all the things they want to say, beautiful or ugly words, cold or tender, everything;in fear that they might lose that person . Emptiness. This world is empty, empty from hearts and feelings.
'This world is like a prison', she said to herself. Thinking how many people are imprisoned in their minds, how many talents are imprisoned in those minds. How many ideas, theories, stories, paintings, music, solutions.. and the list goes on; how many of those are imprisoned in minds of people who are too afraid to let them out, because of the world. Because they think they're not quite good enough, though they might be the best. How many people are screaming from the inside with ideas, how many people are about to blow from the bunch of things kept in their minds; because society, people, and the world won't ever hear. How a painting that could show peace is imprisoned in the artist's mind just because he thinks it'll be underrated. How a piece of writing could change the way people think about something, because the writer is too afraid people won't understand. A lot of things are imprisoned inside everyone's minds because of education, because of that line we're walking through, not knowing where we're going or why; not knowing if even that's what we will be successful at but we keep on moving because society. This world is like a prison, prisoned minds. She hates this world, this empty, overrated world that is prisoning all the things she wants to say.
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