Today the world is painted grey, no extra light or special colours. No sepia filters to add effect. Just I, facing a world of hate, am hoping that my paint will bring back the colour. To be creative is to bring colour into this world but without a muse, being creative becomes a chore...
Today the world has lost its song. I'm standing singing all alone in a world of deathly quiet. And as I try to sing my song the words fall flat with no melody, and no sound. It is a harsh world. I lack an accompaniment without which my song is just words. All this, because today is a day of sadness, a sour song sung in a colourless world. Hysteria, anger, sadness and a pain beyond what my soul can handle. Inexplicable.
Today the world lost a brilliant man. But today, I lost my father.
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