The Broken Canvas
I broke my canvas into pieces. I shattered my hopes and dreams along with it. Now, I am tired and have no energy to pick up the remains of my life that I once cherished.
My canvas was completely serene just how everyone wishes it to be, and me tarnishing it felt right at the moment.
If and only if, I could get the inspiration to pick myself up and paint the desired picture.
Looking down at the remains, I am confused if I am tired or sacred.
What if, I couldn’t do justice to my imagination.
What if the paint I choose and mix fails to hide that, the art which seems to be perfect is just broken.
I have been doing nothing but killing myself for the past couple of months, and still the moment I bring myself up to fixing it, the thought of it being imperfect scares me.
I can’t live like this, I can’t wait for someone else to inspire me to dream again. I don’t want to be the last one to fix my life.
I have decided to pace myself and give my heart and soul to fixing up my canvas to paint the life, I’d always pictured. I took out the brush and started mixing the variety of colours.
I spent days painting the picture and finally, I had made peace with reality. All the colours are required for my imagination to come true.
Your imagination does not need to be perfect or to be accepted by everyone. Your figments of imagination are yours for a reason, you can’t expect everyone to perceive the world the way you do.
Your canvas is yours and if you keep painting only the presentable picture for the world, it’ll always be exposed to the risk of being torn apart by the world.
Before expecting your canvas to be accepted by the world. You need to accept all the colours of life to paint a picture of reality.
I have now mixed all of the colours, be it colour of love, anger, mistakes, passion, darkness, peace, and most important the colour of acceptance.
I kept trying and it took me years to reach there but today, finally I have painted the reality I have been meaning to and now I do not see the room for further improvement.
This creation is entirely different than the others, they are afraid to accept the reality and hide behind the fake colours of happiness.
This creation isn’t the happiest but has the positivity to inspire half of the world.
It has no desire, to be accepted by the world and hide its fragmented self. It has the courage and grace to wear the scars beautifully and make everyone fall in love with it and them as well.
My broken canvas is indeed the perfect canvas.
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