What if eight colors makes someone content? That’s not the case for me but some people are simple. They enjoy watching One Tree Hill, reading about the latest celebrity and going to dance parties. Maybe they go to class; they go home; they do their homework. They are generally happy with whatever cards they are dealt and they find no reason to argue about it. There is not much more to them and they are okay with themselves and with life. She does her purple thing and she is happy.
Yeah, I’m not this way. I will never be content with my situation. Something can always change and that will never stop. My room will never be clean enough. (But a messy room is the sign of a busy mind. Right?) Color after color will spill from the box and they’ll make a disaster of everything. Chartreuse and cerulean, fuchsia and Fuzzy Wuzzy litter the ground. Those simple and happy eight-color folks will have a simple and happy rainbow of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, black and brown. They miss the stages in between.
It’s why I’m constantly changing. Some may notice in me that I am shy around new people. I won’t speak unless spoken to. Others observe that I’m friendly and outgoing with new people. They are two different views on two different occasions. I like to try out new things and I love not being stuck in a form. If I want to be the quiet girl in the back of the classroom, I do it. The same day, perhaps in the very next class, I talk to everyone and I raise my hand often. There is no cookie cutter mold, or 8-color box or crayons that I can or want to fit in to.