New blog

I have started a new blog strictly for short stories. Raigentheraconteur.wordpress.com

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The hair band part three

Bridges looked down at her feet. She couldn’t believe she was standing in a tree, underwater, about to be inducted into a hairband.
“What instruments do you play, kid?” Asked jack.
“I dont.”
“You never played an instrument?”
“No.”
“Come over here I want to talk to you for a minute.” They sat by the walls of the tree while the others mumbled something about hairspray and humidity.
“You don’t play an instrument; thats fine. but kid, I need you to tell me what you do so that we can find a place for you.”
“I dont know.”
“Well what did you do right before you ended up here.”
“I wasn’t doing anything. I was lost.”
“Well you still are, but we can find a place for you and you won’t be lost anymore.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I knew where I was, and I know where I am now. I just didn’t know what I was doing. Im a kid and my parents want me to play with all the other twelve year olds but they just wanted to play kickball. I didn’t want to play kickball, so I always sat by the river. I don’t want to play kickball but I don’t know what I want to do. I’m lost.”
“You see that red head over there?”
“Yeah”
“That’s Elias, he once built houses. The girl, shannon, sold printers. The other two guys, Pete and lenny had a family granite business. I sold t-shirts on the street. We all hated our jobs, but we did them because that’s what we were expected to do. Long story short, we ended up creating this hair band. Even though people stopped listening to us on land, we found a way to keep doing what we love. But before we even started the band, we had no clue what we wanted. We were all lost. All it took was for me to sell Elias a t-shirt, and we found ourselves.”
“I dont play any instruments, but I know that I want to be here.”
“Well that’s great!”
“Why?”
“Because I want to show you something.” Jack walked over to the green door. He looked down and smiled at bridges. She anxiously stared back.
“This is no ordinary door. This is a window.” He through open the tiny door to reveal a greenish blue world with hundreds of fish darting around in all directions in front of them. A single pane of glass prevented bridges from falling through. Her astonishment left her stumbling forward for a closer look. She pressed her nose up to the glass to see fish resembling citizens of New York city. There were tons of them swimming in all directions, hurrying from one place to another without stopping to glance around. The blues and the greens of the water blended together and caught the light, relecting onto the glass and then onto her face. Watching through the glass gave her a whole new perspective of the river. The top of the river was like a blanket that covered a beautiful world underneath. The light that only made the ripples more prominent on the surface actually ran across the scales of every fish that passed by her nose.
“You can stay here.”
“Listen to an 80’s hairband play music while watching the underwater world grow? That sounds amazing.”
Her room no longer had walls.

The diddly doo dooplydoodly doo

So I went on a Hiatus. I havent posted anything on this blog in a bajillion years. *bajiliion- raigens hypothetical number that stands for way too many. Notice that I used the word Hiatus. Ever since I started watching shows created by steven Moffat I have been using that word. Anyway it has been forever since I posted anything and I have an excuse; I am too lazy. Before you take that excuse, crumple it up, and eat it, let me explain why it is a good one. So from august to may I have to go to school. Five days a week I go to bed too late and wake up too early to go somewhere that I dont want to be to learn things that I dont need to know for my career path. Then I go home and I do home work, which is just much more school work. they cant keep me at school until nine o clock so they let me do half of it at home. By the time I go to bed I may or may not be done with said work. But when I go to sleep I am so stressed and exhausted that it feels like my brain is vomiting on itself. Yes, that is the most accurate simile I could come up with. Also, when im at school I have to deal with people. And people wouldnt be so bad if everybody would stop with the small talk. Seriously the next time someone asks me what my major is im just going to walk away and ignore them. If you want to start a conversation with me, as me something like “what is the meaning of life?”. If you do, I will actually enjoy the conversation. Small talk is every introverts nightmare. So for approximately 8 months I suffer. In those 8 months I need a creative outlet or I will go insane. This blog just so happens to be my most recent creative outlet. But then, summer happened. School is like a white board with every word ever made written on it. Summer is like a completely blank white board (see, school has me using teaching devices in my similes). when summer starts I just want to lay on the floor and stare at my ceiling fan for 3 months. Forget frolicking on a beach with peers and having fun. I dont want to even socialize. Dont even ask me if I want to take summer courses. NO. Why would I suffer for 8 months and then willingly take more in my free time? I know what the answer is, but I refuse. So during the summer if I dont have any stress, exhaustion, or the need to hug small puppies for long periods of time, then why would I need a creative outlet? But wait…. I have been using a creative outlet. MY BRAIN. I have discovered that I dont need to actually put my thoughts into a drawing or a story, I could just let these thoughts dance the Macarena around my cerebral cortex and shimmy past my frontal lobes (yay brain parts! I know the words for them, but nothing about them!) There was no need for me to write them, and I certainly didnt feel like doing anything for the first few weeks or summer except NETFLIX. I feel like I should have a weekly netflix suggestion. This week it is “The Giant Mechanical Man”. The thoughts conveyed to the audience in this movie are ideas that I have had before, I just didnt know it until they were actually spoken of by characters who I related to.
And that is why I havent posted anything in a while. Please excuse the typos in this post, for it is 2:51 a.m. and I just wanted to put this out there.

“The hair band” part two

Hey! If you have yet to read part one of this short story, click here to do so now. If you have read it, then enjoy part two!

The interior of the grand, under-water oak was detailed in every corner. There wasn’t a single dull or ordinary part of it. The only thing that could have made it better was if other people were in it. She realized that she was totally alone. Then, she had an idea.
She ran up and down the piano stairs, jumped over the guitar-string woven carpet, and danced around the drum-topped tables. She stopped to stand directly in the middle of the tree for just another second to take it all in. Her usual activities such as staring up at heavy skies and sitting in the mud by the river bank were incredibly boring compared to running through a musical instrument themed tree under water. She was usually unhappy and bored prior to this day, but not because her life was boring. She didn’t know her life was boring. Say her mind was like a room. It used to be painted a plain blue color. Nobody walked through this room, so it remained the same. She thought that her plain blue walls were great. Now, her room was beautifully painted with colors she had never seen until now. Her room was incredibly boring until she awoke.

She walked quickly up the staircase one more time. A green door to her left seemed out of place. The stairs just ended, and she was sure that she was only a quarter of the way up the tree. The door might have been the brightest green she had ever seen, but it was peeling. The paint down the middle of the door was curling away from the wood, almost like it didn’t want to be there anymore. She plucked a piece of the paint off to reveal a plain wooden door. The strangest thing about this door wasn’t the peeling paint, the size of it, or the location. It was vibrating. She put her ear up to it cautiously and heard a whistle of a sound emitting from it. She decided to slowly turn the knob. As soon as it was fully turned, the door threw open and slammed against the wall. Rock music was blaring through the other side and was so loud that it almost knocked her over. Excitement built up inside of her and she entered the doorway. There was another staircase to her left. She climbed it quickly, though it definitely wasn’t as sturdy as the piano staircase.
The wood of the tree surrounding her was vibrating from the loud bass guitar sound coming from the top. When she finally made it to the end of the staircase there was one more door. This one was just like the other, chipped green paint and all. This time she was prepared. She stood to the side and turned the knob quickly. The door flew open just as the other did, but with a little more force. Light escaped as well as sound. She took a slow but firm step through the doorway. Before her eyes were something she had never seen before. Four men and one woman stood in the center of a large, wooden, and brightly lit room. In their hand were instruments ranging from the electric guitar, to the mic stand. They continued to play their obnoxiously loud, but very fun music as if they didn’t see her. On the front of the drum set was purple writing that read “The hair band” in fading cursive letters. That is when she noticed the fluffy, tangled, long, and hair sprayed hair dos that sat on top of each of their heads. The woman singing stopped and yelled

“Hey hey hey, what is she doing here!!?” The others stopped playing their instruments and looked at the girl through their ridiculous hair. “Hi” she said.
“Who are you?” Asked the bass player with crazy blond hair.
“Bridges”
“Your name is Bridges?” Asked the red head behind the drums.
“Yeah”
“Not Bridget?”
“Nope”
“Why”
“I don’t know.”
“But why not Bridget?”
“What’s your name?”
“Jack”
“Why?”
“Because that’s my name”
“Why? Why not Jake?”
“Because it’s just jack”
“Well I’m just bridges” she replied. They all just stood and stared at each other for a few moments. No words were muttered and you could hear a pen drop. The red head looked to his band members, then back to bridges, then back to the band members. Bridges just stared back.
“Well how in the world did you find us? Were in a tree under water for god’s sake! What did you do, fall into a black hole?!?” The singer questioned.
“Well I lost my hair band and then this toad started making rude remarks at me and then I floated and then I drowned and then I drifted and then I went up the piano stairs and then I peeled the green paint off and then the two doors flew open and now I’m here!” She rambled off very quickly. The hair band members just stared at her again. This time their jaws were slightly dropped, and their lips were slightly parted. Their shoulders were raised in confusion and none of them spoke a word. The drum stick rolled off of the drum and made clacking sounds on the floor as it settled.
“Wait. So you lost your hair band? Like, a band like us?” The red head asked.
“No, I lost my hair band that keeps my braids together.”
“And somehow that led you to us?”
“Somehow.” They continued to stand there, flabbergasted. The red head whispered something in jack’s ear.
“No way! No! Not happening!”
“Come on, jack! If we let her go she will tell people about us!”
“You’re not going to let me go? She asked, confused.
“Listen kid, after the eighties hair band phase passed, people criticized us for keeping the band alive.”
“And keeping our hair crazy!”
“Crazy awesome!”
“Yeah so we can’t just let you go, you might tell someone about us. And besides, we can’t give away the location of this tree. Living under water, in a tree of instruments, playing music for the rest of our lives with no critics, and fish as an audience? That sounds like a pretty good life to me. We can’t have some lost kid ruining that!”
End of part two.

Word count: 1053

Schema

Here comes a train of thought!

A schema is a framework that our brain uses to organize or interpret new information or experiences. For example, we all have a schema of a dog. A dog has fur, four legs, two ears, etc. Our brains collected all of this information about dogs and categorized it. Schemas can also be a way of dealing with situations. Young children develop the action of crawling as a way of moving around, which is a schema. Schemas are often modified or accommodated. A child may think that crawling is the only way of moving around until they gain the ability to walk. Their schema of mobility is modified so that they accept both crawling and walking as ways of getting from one point to another.

I was looking at some van Gogh paintings, and one in particular stood out. I had seen the bedroom in Arles painting a hundred times, but this time it looked different. It looked like it was pulling me in, the way that the lines were angled and the vanishing point was just beyond the window. Then I realized that it was like my room. I’ve spent a lot of time lately in my room, solitary and bored. I mostly just watch Netflix and do homework, but sometimes I just sit and do nothing. This is probably because I don’t want to do anything. I’ve lost interest in a lot of things that I use to enjoy. I feel like this painting was giving me a warning. Its pulling me in, but it’s just a room. The window in the painting is open and the entire world is out there. So if the whole world is out there, why do I keep returning to the same place, and doing the same things?

I obviously have a lot of schemas in my brain, but I’m probably not aware of a lot of them. There has to be a group of schemas that is causing me to act this way. I don’t want to be bored, sad, or numb. I want to break out of this pattern, but it is proving more difficult than I thought. I recently tried painting again. It has been at least five months since the last time I’ve painted. It was nice to paint again because I was accessing the schema I use to paint. This schema includes all the information that I sub consciously use when I paint, like the color theory, proportions, brush types, etc. Accessing this information again was comforting and familiar. However, it still wasn’t as fun as it used to be. I’ve tried reading again. I reread the deathly hallows. That book is definitely one of my favorites, but I found myself distracted while reading it. I couldn’t focus on the words. I don’t know what distracted me either. I also tried watching a nature documentary on snakes. This was the one that held my attention. The schema I have for snakes holds a lot of information, from memories of working with snakes, to all the information I’ve learned about all the different sub species. I will always enjoy accessing my schemas for animals.

I’ve found a couple schemas that can help me get out of this state, but I think in order to really change, I need to understand what schemas have been modified to lead me to this situation. In the meantime, I’m going to create new schemas. There’s a website called hogwartsishere.com that allows you to take nine-week Hogwarts courses online. With everything from defense against the dark arts, to herbology, I can learn everything about the world that Hogwarts exists in. (I know that this is incredibly nerdy, and everyone who isn’t a die- hard HP fan just threw up in their mouths when they read this). I’m existentially bored! What else am I going to do? I’m also expanding and assimilating my schema for music. “Gold coast” by Grouplove, “Talk is cheap” by Chet Faker, “Float on” by Modest Mouse, and “Why’d you only call me when you’re high” by The Arctic Monkeys are just a few songs I’ve been adding to my schema, while also retaining all of my old favorites that I’ll never lose such as the red hot chili peppers, Regina Spektor, nirvana, Lana del Rey, the black keys, etc.

With all this talk about schemas, I have created a concept in my mind that I’m currently developing. What if our entire lives could be giant schemas that we could assimilate or accommodate with each other? What if we could gather each person’s life as a schema and put it into a computer or a data base that we could use to access these schemas after someone dies. It would be amazing to access van Gogh’s life\schema. What if we could replace our schemas with another’s? I don’t think any of this would be possible, but it would be really cool. I think that’s what I like about philosophy. You can ask as many questions as you want; because regardless of whether or not they are answerable, the process of thinking up these questions is very entertaining.

“The hair band” part one

If there was one thing that she was positive about, it was that the skies never looked as heavy as they did that morning. There was enough water in the clouds to rain for a few weeks. She wasn’t really thinking of anything, just staring at the sky while her bare feet sank lower into the mud she squatted over. A single dropping sound distracted her. Her hair band that kept her red hair braided fell into the river in front of her and started to drift away.

“Wait!” She yelled, as she cupped her hands and tried to change the direction the water was moving in.

“It’s an inanimate object, and you certainly can’t change the direction in which a river flows.” Said an oddly deep and pestered voice. She whipped around to find the voice that came from the seemingly empty forest behind her. She gazed through the dark, damp branches of almost bare trees, but she saw nothing.

“Maybe if you looked under your own nose you would notice things more important than hair bands and rain clouds.” Said the voice, which she now realized came from an obese, brown toad. His eyes pointed out in opposite directions, but his feet pointed inwards.

“Look, I know I’m not a sight for sore eyes, but staring isn’t going to change that.” Said the toad. His tongue kind of fell out of his mouth when he spoke, which is distracting, but it didn’t affect his annunciation.

“I’m sorry” she said, taken back by his rude snapping.

“I really wish that there were more bears in these woods.”

“Why?” Said the girl, still confused as to why he was carrying on the conversation, despite how much he seemed to dislike her company.

“To rid of pests like you! Now move you skinny little branches aside, I want to enjoy my afternoon float.” The toad proceeded to take a huge breath in, puffing out his double chins with air, making him into a balloon. He plopped himself into the river and floated belly-up in the direction it flowed. The girl just stared, confused and astonished. Maybe if she floated down the river, she could retrieve her hair band. She filled her cheeks with air until she thought she might pass out. She stumbled into the water and lay on her back. She hesitated before pushing off from the bank. With one quick motion, she squeezed her toes into the ground, and then pushed off into the river. Not even a second passed before she began to sink. She grabbed at the air, hoping to find something to grasp, which made her sink even quicker.  As the drifted to the bottom of the water, the heavy sky became slightly lighter. The water tinted it a gorgeous green color. The motion of the water painted over the heavy clouds and made them look like puddles. This was the last thing she saw before she finally passed out.

She felt the most pure and fresh oxygen run through her nostrils. This wasn’t the type of air that was polluted and grey, it was so crisp and clean that it tingled her skin. She opened her eyes to see tree branches. She sat up, but she felt a pressure pushing her down. It was the weight of the water around her that prevented her from making the quick movements that she would make on land. She widened her eyes and saw an enormous oak tree under the same greenish brown river that she sank in. She must have drifted farther down river, because she has never seen a part of the river that was deep enough to hold a tree. She swam a little closer, noticing that she was breathing air. Little bubbles sprouted along the tree, swam up its branches, and eventually floated up to the surface of the water like a balloon in a sky. Little silver fish swam in-between the leaves and along the branches. She approached the trunk of the tree. A little slice of light escaped from the bark of the tree. She poked her fingers into the source of the light, and tried to pry open the tree. A door swung outward, and a rush of the fresh oxygen pushed towards her. A glow seeped into the water, along with the air. She took a hesitant step inside, and the door shut behind her. To the right was an elaborate staircase that stole her attention from the rest of her odd surrounding. She walked towards it, no longer restrained by the water of the river. The first step was white, the next was half black and half white, and the rest followed a pattern of black and white. It looked like a large set of piano keys. She looked up at the chandelier above her head, and noticed that it too looked like an instrument. It was like a hanging trumpet. The end of the instrument where the sound comes from was facing down, and the side where the player would put the trumpet to their face was facing the ceiling. Little pockets of light lined the sound-end of the trumpet and illuminated the whole room. She spun around, taking in the whole interior of the tree, and noticed that everything was instrument themed. It was the most exciting thing that the usually bored, almost always unhappy, and seemingly miniscule child had seen.
End of part one.

Word Count: 909

The hair band

I will be uploading a new short story in multiple parts. This story is the longest I’ve ever written, and the first part is over 900 words. For your sake, it needs to be split up into peices, or chapters. All of the parts will be uploaded within a week, so look for “The hair band” soon!

Eternal life

I often put a lot of thought into my actions in scenarios that will probably never happen. One of these that I’ve thought a lot about is the possibility of living forever. I have this well thought out plan for what I would do if I could live forever. I probably put more thought into this plan than Danny ocean did for any of his plans in all of the oceans movies. So what would I do if I could live forever? Well let me tell you…

I assume that if I were to live forever, it would start from my current age, and I wouldn’t have to start from childhood with this plan.

Firstly, I would finish college. I would continue working for the degree I am studying for at the moment, and I would become a Zookeeper. After working as a Zookeeper for however many years I wish, I would go back to college and study something like astronomy or theoretical physics. I absolutely love learning about space and time and everything to do with theoretical physics. So much so, that I would love to work for NASA, or go into space. (Although I’m kind of terrified after watching Gravity)

*eventually I would make an appearance on “through the wormhole”, and I would meet Morgan Freeman. MORGAN FREEMAN

So after studying everything that I could ever possibly want to know more about, and taking on as many career opportunities as possible, I would retire with enough money to fill the T.A.R.D.I.S.. with this money, I would travel across the entire world. I would learn every language, of every country, and I would live in each country for a “lifetime” (about 80 ish years). After living absolutely everywhere, I would begin my diabolical plan of taking over the world (in a good way).

This plan consists of me creating utopian societies all over the planet. These societies would be homes where humans and animals can live in peace with each other. I would also make sure to end world hunger and poverty with these societies, so that every human life and every animal life is lived fully and happily. Happiness is of utmost importance.

After taking over the world and making it a perfectly happy home for all of those who inhabit it, I would leave it. I would travel to Mars or any other planet that could support life, and I would build some sort of sanctuary on the planet to hold prisoners. Anyone who wishes to destroy my perfect utopian planet would be kicked off of the earth, to live the rest of their lives on a planet where I couldn’t care less if they tried to kill each other.

I suppose creating a perfect utopian Earth would earn me a well deserved retirement on some tropical island, but I can’t just stop there. I’m on a roll!
I would then turn the world into a canvas. I think creativity is extremely important. I would try my hardest to make sure that earth became a gallery that extra-terrestrials could stare at like its the freaking mona lisa. Every street, building, and school would become a canvas for any artist to beautify. Music of all types would be embraced and welcomed around every corner. Every child would be trained in the arts to fulfill their creative capacity in any way they please. Random outburts of dancing would be encouraged.
*note twerking is not a form of dancing

At this point I would feel almost complete. Lastly, I would adress religion. Every culture is allowed, and welcomed, to embrace their religion. However, these religions may not interfere with another being’s happiness. For example, no religion, under any circumstance, will prevent people from getting married. Polygamy and same-sex marriage would be totally legal. After preventing religions from harming others, I think I deserve some sort of retirement.

The ultimate retirement would be away from all other civilization. Where could I go to be away from people? The ocean! I would find a place in the ocean to build a home. Imagine waking up to this outside your window. Enviromentally friendly, my home would be built in an area of the ocean where it wouldn’t interfere with any natural habitats, maybe in diepolder cave? The home would be large enough for me, and my reptiles and goats. (I love reptiles and goats). Here is where is would watch Netflix for the rest of eternity, eventually losing my mind and going insane.

So, have you created a plan for if you could live forever? Is there anything that I missed that I should add to my plan? Let me know!

Word count: 778

Throwing oranges changes everything

I have discovered something the perplexes me more than I knew was possible. I feel the need to take a deep breath before even thinking about something as complex and mysterious as what I am about to talk about. I’m going to try to break down my thoughts into random paragraphs that, hopefully, will make sense in the end.

Do you think that everything in our universe is connected somehow? I think that everything is completely random in why it exists. For example, my existence is completely random and there’s no reason why I exist, I just do. However, I do think that we are connected to other things. Everything shares the same energy, so we all have roots that connect to each other. Our thoughts and feelings grow outward from these roots, like a trunk. Our actions, which are influenced by our thoughts and feelings, grow outward even further and become more diverse, like the branches. *its easy for me to explain things with a tree metaphor*

About a year ago I watched the first half of season one of a show called “touch” on Netflix (the amount of times I’ve mentioned Netflix in my blog about philosophy is strange). The show centered around a young boy who is different from everyone else because he could see how the universe is supposed to be linked together, and he felt the need to make these connections when they would fall apart. Although the show was interesting at first, I felt like the idea could only be taken so far before it comes to a dead end (and I believe there were only two or three seasons). I find this ironic because according to the show, there is a never ending string, yet the show came to a dead end. This show has sparked some curiosity in my mind about how our decisions, or even the slightest change in anything, can affect the world around us. I started writing this post back in late January or early February and I didn’t quite know where I stood on the subject, but now I do. I think that everything is linked together at the roots, but the relationship between two things can only exist and change based on our actions. For example, I am linking to you. I may not know you or have anything to do with you, but we are linked. Suppose you live in delaware. One day I might take a plane to delaware for some reason, and walking down a street, I accidently run into you. There doesnt have to be anymore than two seconds for me to run into in order to delay your course of action. Because of those two seconds that I run into you, you are going to arrive at your car two seconds later. Then, because of those two seconds, you hit a red light instead of a green light. Because of that red light, you are arrive to a coffee shop about thirty seconds after the person, who just robbed the shop, had left. The slightest change of course can affect everything in your life, and consequently, the lives of others. If I were to throw an orange, and it accidentally hits you in the head and gives you a concussion, then that one decision I made could cause you to end up in a hospital. However, while at the hospital, the doctor could discover a tumor inside your brain that you wouldnt have known was there (until you felt its affects) if I had not thrown that orange. The decisions we make not only change everything, but the effects they have could be either positive or negative.

You may think that a hummer or an SUV has been just the coolest car ever (both of them are tacky by the way). So you buy a brand new hummer or SUV and you drive it for the next ten years or so until you want the newest tacky pile of junk. That car can put off a ton of polution in ten years, and consumes a lot of gas (which we are quickly running out of). You may say that its just one car and the pollution isn’t enough to destroy the whole planet, but that car has a small affect. When thousands of other people think the same thing and buy the same car, the affects grow larger and will eventually ruin the planet. Living in the moment is great, but you have to think of the negative affects your actions can have. Everything has a cause and effect, what will yours be?

Word count: 775

The tree

He rubbed the back of his neck which was hurt from looking down for the past two hours. He ignored it. What was the use of caring? The streets were wet from the rain that had been pouring on and off for the past three days. Muddy, crumpled, trampled leaves stuck to the gutter and made a squishing sound when his new, albeit rain soaked shoes scuffled across them. Nobody wanted his work. He thought his creations that he worked on full-heartedly for the past 12 months were the best he had ever done. Feeling so confident in his work and the possibility of getting hired after being out of work, on his own for so long, he purchased the most expensive pair of shoes he had ever bought in his life. They were deep blue suede with a simple, yet sophisticated etched trim around the laces. Even the plastic on the aglets reflected his smile when he bought them. Now the lace-like design of the trims was ruined with mud and disappointment.

His legs burned from the extensive, pointless walk, because artists don’t get out much. He didn’t know where he was or where he was going, because he hadn’t looked up since he began his stroll. He wanted to go back to the time when painting was fun, when he wanted to pick up a brush. He wanted to go back to the time when he could paint endlessly, and money wasn’t a problem. He wanted to go back to the time when his paint brushes didn’t leave bristles all over his work. They were so old and used, that they were falling apart, they were dying.

Suddenly his shoes clipped a piece of the sidewalk that was jutting out. He stumbled forward and caught himself with his hands that were still stained with crimson oil paint. He couldn’t see much of what was in front of him as he stood up, because it was a pitch black night, and the moon was covered in a blanket of angry looking clouds. He strained his eyes to see what lied ahead of him. It was a dead end; he had to turn back around. He threw his hands up and pulled at his hair as he let out the loudest scream he could manage. He sprinted towards the dead end, as his screams began to crack as he began to cry. He felt like he was falling apart from the inside, like the bristles of his brushes. He dropped to his knees and continued to shake and sob uncontrollably. He put his scratched, stained hands to his eyes, and sank even lower to the ground. Everything was over.

He felt like a tree. He grew with every praise of his work ever since he was a child. He became a great big oak, with a strong foundation of effort he put into his work. Then one by one, his limbs were sawed off by the chainsaws of critics who just wanted to tear him down. They cut him down, piece by piece, until all that was left was his effort. Now, he had to grow all over again. He couldn’t even make a sound as he silently shook with tears.

Although his vision was greatly blurred, he caught the glimpse of something incredibly bright out of the corner of his eye. He used his jacket sleeve to clear his eyes. For the first time since his rejection, he looked up. Another spark of light hit the ground. He whipped his head around, looking for the source of this strange phenomenon. Suddenly, the drops of light began raining down even faster. It was like hundreds of little flames were raining from the sky, and bouncing off of the wet streets. The reflections of these light drops shone on the streets, creating a scene in which it seemed like light not only rained down from the sky, but also appeared to rain from the ground towards the sky. These glowing white rain drops created light pockets around them, making the sky several shades lighter and bluer wherever they fell.

He reached his hands out, palms upwards towards the sky, and allowed the sparkling drops to touch his skin. They felt like regular rain drops, but they made his skin glow for just a second after they fell on him, and sank into his skin. His jaw dropped and he began to laugh. The lights reflected off of his watery eyes as he began to cry again. This time, they were tears of joy and awe. He laughed even louder and the smile on his face never faded, not even the slightest bit. He reached his arms out and let his head hang back, as light poured down from the sky around him.

The sky seemed to pulsate in areas around him. Bursts of turquoise and light maroon spread and faded like the beat of drum. The pulse became faster and the fading of colors began to stop. The sky was patchy with shades of yellow orange, gold, and lime green. The colors became more visible with the drops of light growing faster. The sky quickly became a painting and dripped with colors that lit up his face. His forehead became wrinkled, as he smiled bigger than he ever had before. He spun around, danced, and grabbed the drops of light. They were like the stars that were concealed by clouds and city lights, the ones he had never seen before, except he could grab these stars.

Then he quickly realized the great opportunity that was before him. He kicked off his new, yet destroyed, shoes, and ran back the other way down the street. He didn’t know where he was going, but he had to get home quickly. He must paint it. This is the water that would seep into his roots and make him grow.

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