(no subject)
Stepping on the feet of my explanations, my tongue stutters because she doesn't know quite how to articulate this. This is the color violet. This is neatly placed on a four foot canvas, and I touched it. I touched every shape. I painted it. But it's not possible for me to be satisfied with being unsatisfied, so I roll around in my covers and wet my eyes. I wet them dry. I read a lot these days, to entertain my thoughts with someone's words other than my own. Cos I get pretty angry with myself when that's the only person I talk to. I'm shifty. But I know this, and can behave with it. Still I'm not comfortable letting other people know how many boys I've kissed, or what I've tried, and the experiences I've missed. Those things are simply my business. So don't dress for the occasion assuming that I will be so open. I will not make you do anything that you are not already willing to do. It's not my problem that you choose to adapt to my bad habits, maybe you're just around me too much. I'm gonna go change my clothes and paint on a new canvas, the old one's finished. I sorta like it. I like what I attempted to explain through it. Though no one will completely understand it, cos my tongue has a hard time articulating this. I wonder, how does one explain the feeling of violet?