I have never liked the color yellow. It is bright and unnecessary, almost. Happiness all bottled up in a color and sent all over the world. It is a lie. The world is not happy. The world is dark and gloomy. The world is full of liars and thieves. The world is not yellow.
Yellow shows brightness. A brightness settles over each morning and leaves with each dark starry night sky. But the ugly color is still there in the stars, giving a false hope to humanity. Acting like cling wrap and making one think it will not stick to itself. Yellow is a wrong.
Why is yellow seen as bright like how a piece of fruit from a bowl is automatically seen as sweet?
Yellow is a treasure map allowing hope for the treasure to vanish with age as the 'X' lies ten paces east.
The natural places yellow lies:
- In the sun
- On a flower
- In a fall leaf
The unnatural places yellow lies:
- Eyes
- Shoes
- Nails
- Tables (have you seen a yellow table because I haven't)
Rollerblading past a forest full of trees with yellowing leaves. It almost frightens me.
Yellow is a dangerous thing so that if it was a person one would stay away. Yellow is a liar, a crook, a pervert. Yellow is the man in a hat and a trench coat with shiny shoes in the rain that could be harmless but an evil emanates from him.
On my resume for my job if I were to put the color yellow it would be, to me, like putting down professional alcoholic or junkie. Yellow reminds me of failure.
Yellow is the monster in my nightmares. It chases and grabs.
Yellow is cancer and famine. Liver failure and fever.
It
is
evil.
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| Why I Write |
I hae to say that I do agree with some of Orwell's statements in "Why I Write". I too have found that lonely children tend to write of imaginary places as I was a lonely child myself.
I would find myself doing similar internal monologs with endings outside the normal idea of happiness.
Orwell's four reasons for writer's writing I feel are true to an extent. He mentions different degrees in every writer, however, I believe that some writers may not share that reason at all.
For example a writer may not have "historical impulse" while still keeping true to the other three reasons.
In the workshops that are a requirement for my class we sit in a tiny circle (as there's only 3 students and a teacher) and go over one members work that day. The 1st day I was fortunate enough to not have to present my work. I could see my friends face while we were taking notes on her poem.
She was scared.
There was a fear of judgement in her eyes. We did not judge, per-say, we mearly gave advice on how to better the work and what we liked. And that put me at ease. This knowing how it would be the next day when I showed my work.
WRONG
Now the wrong is not to say that I was judged harshly but to say I was not at ease. I was frazzled from my study hall the period before. My plan was to print out one of the works I had printed last year to show. I log onto the school servers and go to my documents.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
I scrambled against the clock to pull some for of work from my head. That work was a little poem called 'Game'. I hated it at first. I thought it was one of the worst things I wrote. I don't like rushed projects and that's what 'Game' was.
Then I heard the reviews from my peers.
I sat there as they silently wrote on their paper, hiding in my cardigan. I saw pens flying over paper and all I could think was, "THIS SUUUUUUUCKS!" Soon, however, it was time for them to tell me what they thought.
They liked it! They actually found deeper meaning in a poem I had written in less than ten minutes. And then reading it again, completely ignoring what my peers interpretations were, I found it.
I found it!
Workshop led me to the meaning behind my words. It made me more confident. I feel now that I can show my work to the group. I can do this.
