Dreams. I write it down as I soon wake from it. No later. Right now. I had just awoken from the world I don't want to leave from and yet it's slowly fading away like ashes being blown into the sky, never to be seen again. Having to wake up from that world and to the real world is... disappointing. There may be no thrills in my life, no real happiness only a mess of emotions I have yet to understand and untangle, the feeling of what I have in that world invalidates it all. Painting with all grey and white is all I have in my waking life and yet when I close my eyes, I see colors that I already own. Some red, yellow, green, pink, all is bright. As I try to replicate them with the paints I currently have, I only produce faded colors. It's not what I wanted and expected but still I paint with it. I go out to see some colors, seeking out for really intense, soft and just right ones to complete my painting. After hunting the colors I want to have, I do my hardest to paint what I had envisioned as fast as I can and capture the moment after it fades. The pictures stands as a memory that I felt what the colors interpret that day. As I plaster them on my wall, I admire them in countless hours. Feeling that in my mind, fingertips and sight are dripping with color I have not seen before. A combination of all colors and all unknown stream on the floor. Some shining in the light, some as dark as the night, some are a combination of two and some with different hues. Falling to my knees to feel them, finally realizing how colorful my painting would be as I use them. Painting my whole house is no easy job, but with the forever lasting colors I already have, it's enough.
