Dive Deep into Creativity: Discover, Share, Inspire
Not getting help sucks, especially when it's being offered to you on a silver platter.
I saw the tv glow and turned it’s brightness up.
I was happy to see that other people’s tv’s also glowed, but I noticed that my tv was a different shade than theirs. Soon after that, I noticed that my tv was a completely different colour. It was a deep green, turning into white, turning into grey, turning into black.
I turned the brightness of the tv down, but left it just enough to always play in the background, like a little song in the back of my brain that I can’t remember the words of.
I never saw a person whose tv had the same colour as mine and it made me feel like no one would appreciate it. It was quite an interesting colour; I did plenty of research on it, but the people who did have their tv that colour never really got to be a real part of society.
I turned the brightness up again this year—not by a lot, just a bit to make out the colours—and while looking at it, I realised something. If I were to let my tv glow, it would mean never truly feeling a part of this world.
Love was such a big part of a person’s life. So why didn’t I feel any of it? I loved my friends, I loved my family, I loved my pets. Why wasn’t I cable of loving on another level? Why didn’t romance strike me as this beautiful thing rather than this tedious chore? I wanted to rip my heart out—why wasn’t it feeling things like the other hearts felt them? Why didn’t it speed up at the sight of a pretty woman or handsome man? Why did it just pump my blood and not my feelings?
If I were to let my tv glow, it would mean embracing who I truly am. But I don’t know who I truly am. And I haven’t known for a really long time.