Maybe it’s time to stop blending in. Maybe it’s time to be the color I’m looking for.
There are days when the world feels painted in one long, unbroken note. A wash of sameness stretched thin over my skin. I walk through rooms where the walls wear the same tired shade. Conversations hum with predictable tones. Everyone speaking, but no one really saying. Everyone shining, but in the same muted light. And I find myself longing for color. Not the safe kind, but the wild, unruly hues that catch you off guard. The kind that startle the eye and stir the soul.
I’m tired of being surrounded by different shades of the same color. Tired of lives draped in comfort’s dull fabric. I want boldness. I want the electric pulse of something unexpected. People who speak in vivid stories and dance in rhythms that don’t ask permission. I want to sit in the glow of bright minds, to taste words that spark with spice, to be shaken by laughter that doesn’t care who is listening.
It feels dangerous, this craving. To step outside of what is known and easy. But maybe that is where life lives… in the spaces where colors clash and collide. Where nothing is safe but everything is true. I am not tired of life but have grown weary of the version I have been shown. The one painted in easy strokes. Careful. Contained.
I want to spill. To stain. To be drenched in the messy beauty of it all. Because isn’t that what we’re here for? To be seen in our brightest colors, even if they don’t match the room.
Maybe it’s time to stop blending in. Maybe it’s time to be the color I’m looking for.
