When I was a kid I thought it was gonna be really pretty outside, with all the big trees, good, generous people and open minds. Because, you know, that's what they showed in cartoons, it's what writers told in their books and poems... It's what everyone expects at first. But even though I'm still very young, sometimes huge buildings with pieces of paint scrubbed off them cover the branches. And I really thought people were open to new ideas and their thoughts floated on the waves of life, just like those kids from the street. But didn't we all think that everyone thought they could fly if they believed enough? If they held an umbrella and jumped from the roof of the house? Turns out, the more you believe, the more they'll make fun of you and hate you. And the more you accomplish, the more they'll take from you.
The more you are, the less you have.
It's so hard to build yourself up, to create your own world where no one else is allowed, to dream dreams while wide awake... It's so hard and takes a lifetime. But it takes a freakin' word to tear everything apart. Does it really matter to anyone who does it to you? No, not really. Will it ever happen to them? Yes, probably. Maybe it already did happen. Who knows... Will they ever understand? I thought people would understand something they've done to you once it's been done to them. But again, those buildings throw a shade at the trees. And turns out you break something in your body when you jump off a house. And they also won't understand. Probably none of them will ever say sorry. Because it's not like shoving a person with your shoulder on a bus - it's crushing down a whole world.
Maybe they know a "sorry" won't fix it.
I really thought there was a pretty world waiting just for me outside, since the hell I lived was a lot easier to bear with if I dreamed of a better place outside. And it also hurt a lot to see that only parts of the world were kept beautiful. People turned out to be friends taking away something you let become your life, someone you look up to bullying you every single day of elementary school, teachers who put you down with every word...
But yeah, I'm still here. And you're still here, reading what I wrote sitting with my dog in my room figuring out where my watercolors are. Personally, even when I was a kid I wouldn't be able to come up with a better story. Everything turned out to be one of those good books you remember your whole life and retell them to different people and bore the same people with. I didn't dream of telling YOU this one time. I probably don't know a thing about you and I still get to tell you how awesome your life turned out just by knowing you are there, watching people create art and perhaps creating it yourself. So, don't worry if this is what world became when you saw it. Because YOU control your life. And YOU dream your dreams. You and I are gonna be just fine. Just keep dreaming, believing, fighting and being the person you are RIGHT NOW, because, even though you are probably not accepted by some people with all your goals, you're still going to make them true, unlike them.
Those who hate you do it because you have something they want. Those who don't accept you are ignorant of what makes you special and beyond the limits of their recognition. Those who don't believe in you firstly don't believe in themselves and have nothing to believe in, in the first place. Those who crush your world have no world of their own.
I understand that when you try jumping off a house with an umbrella in your hand, you jump with the will of a believer, but fall with the pain of a prisoner. And the thing that gets broken in your body is your heart. I also understand that once you get up, fix your clothes, clean the dust off your butt and hopefully go to the emergency room just in case, you're gonna be a bigger person, overgrowing the fact that your heart got broken and learning how to fly without an umbrella. For real.
I think everything has already been said, if I read all the comments that people have written on your wonderful piece of art. I guess I will be another one of the 100 ( probably more) people who have written a comment or have faved this artwork, so I'm not going to use long words or put up some story...
Me: yes, what am I doing now than?
But I also didn't wanted to fave and leave again, that would mean I'm not intrested. But I am intrested in this kind of art and like to see the hard work en feelings people have putten in it.
This piece would be perfect for a project we are developing -- an online gallery for artists who have been bullied or who explore the theme of bullying in their work. It's called the You Will Rise Project. Check it out here: youwillriseproject.comand read the "Submit Work" section for details about sharing your work on our site. Thanks!