self reflection

9th grade was the pinnacle of it all for me. I felt like In the beginning, all you could hear was the faintest sound of a low note being played on the piano. But of course, within each step. Those notes kept getting higher and higher and higher. Increasing…. With a little help from my friends, it could be like a symphony orchestra. Composed of brilliant yet obsolete techniques of only using what is in front of you. Rather than, what couldn’t be tangible.

      My image as a quote on quote rock star was nothing more than a touch of mind. Expressionism as we say is the art of self independence, kissing the creative side which I seemed to lack. At least  when it came to proving the devil wrong. Of course, the devil being our only mainstay into self judgement or disrespect.

    These true colors are what we need today. No matter what breed of symbolism it can represent. Our life is that of which is owned by certain people. You and the sudden impact of influences that seemingly control anyone's life. For instance the outline of a muscle would not be the same if it weren’t for Popeye. Or the ideal big breasts  couldn’t be characterized without the feeling of Betty Boop. All these moments of little time in such a short ending world is what creates us. It’s all of what is considered breaking the mold.