I am not a person who could easily adapt. I am not a person who could easily feel comfortable. I am not a person who is competitive. I am a person who used into hiding. I am not a brave person. I am neither intelligent nor talented. I am not an extrovert. I am neither independent nor could live in a group. I am a blank dark canvas.
My words are as complicated as a riddle. My thoughts are as difficult as a puzzle. I hope that complicated thing could give me at least another dark color on me, but yet I still look at the mirror as a blank dark canvas. I started to wonder, how to put at least one color at such a dark canvas. I would put white on me, as there is no other color in the world could be used. But then again white is not a color. It is another blank thing to cover my dark color. I ask my self yet again, could I start to wear a white mask just to put color on me? No, I don’t want to wear a blank mask on me.I am searching a real color to be painted on me. Then again, I am blank as it is. I am complicated as it is.
People always say that our life is not as complicated as it is. That there are many people’s life more complicated than ours. But for me those terms just don’t help. I know it should have. Sometimes that kind of force of term made my color faded. Sometimes we need another kind of support. Sometimes we need someone else's understanding just to find a new color in life.
I love my life in one way, but somehow the other part is just not as beautiful as you expect. Yes life is never that perfect, but don’t you just ever ask how can you reach at least close to perfect?
