The Souls of Fortesqe

Desk

I wake from my nap. At first confused I look around my room. The mountains of paper on top of my desk tower above me, encouraging me to once again fall back asleep and avoid the issue right in front of me. My final senior project has been taking a toll on my sleep schedule for the past week or so and I've completely burnt myself out. I'm definitely the type of person to plan ahead an intensive amount of too much. The project is due by next Friday and I haven't even started. But my twelve drafts are sure to impress Mrs. Donahue..right? I can't help but feel overwhelmed with the amount of work I've forced myself into. If only I had known better. If only I had learned to eliminate this lazy habit of mine. Now I am surrounded by my mistakes. In the form of paperwork, of all things. Place that on top of my laughable sleep schedule and my two parents always worrying about their only child and you'd think that I wouldn't be able to make time for my hobby. But, somehow, I always find a way. For some otherworldly reason I will always find myself back at my real desk.

The desk with towers upon towers of paper, hovering at head level as if little men created a barrier between them and myself. As if the pages had been given life and were making a sorry attempt at gaining some form of power in this world. However, these towers of paper are not cursed with my name on the top left corner and the date on the top right. These pages of creativity have been blessed with colors. Bright, dark, simple, and complex colors that splash its surface like the ocean on a sandy shore. In front of me, I have another "work of art". To my parents, it seems as if I threw three or four different colors of paint onto the canvas. Of course that isn't what I see. I see hope in this particular page. I see determination. I see the ignorance to chase a dream that will always be two steps ahead. In this darker, gloomier tone I imagine an oppressive world. An unforgiving and unrewarding reality in which it's people suffer knowing their lives could be so much more. And then, a yellow dot. A red dot. An orange streak. As I paint more and more, focused on the center of the page, I imagine the hope of the ignorant finally reaching a point of existence. The determination and drive of the wishful unexpectedly paying off. When I am finished, I back away. In the shadows of hate and the gloom that is fear, a burst of bright colors break through its center. As the yellow and red lines slither across the lumpy black surface, it spreads its positivity through its veins. I like this piece especially. It rings truth. At least, the truth inside so many fantasies in the heads of so many people.

I don't find the pressure of my parents too bothersome. They are definitely not the black shade in my life. Those who attend my school aren't much of a threat either, they couldn't be the black shade in my life. I think hard. I think for a long time. There are almost always times when I feel overwhelmed and hated but..why? What is the true cause of shadow in my world? Could it be the world itself? Forcing its limiting rules on my reality? Could it be society as whole? Oppressing me with expectations and unnecessary behaviors? Could it be me? Always pushing myself to avoid my problems-leaving behind a trail of broken dreams as I march from one un-finished objective to another? I wouldn't know. I could never know. That would make happiness too easy. What I do know is what the yellow in my life is. It's art. Not paint art or color art, just..creativity as a whole. Imagination. It's an absolutely wonderful thing! The power of our minds and soul will remain unparalleled. The emotions humans feel are so limiting. But they also give us the ability to fly towards amazing possibilities. Love and hate, fear and trust. These invincible strings pull on us and make us who we are. That is why I love art. It portrays my passion, my love for the human soul. What it's capable of, to be precise. Not what can bring it down.

As I exhale a sigh of relief, I am content. I truly enjoy thinking to myself in times of stress. It's almost therapeutic, ranting on everything amazing and horrendous with the world. I just wish I didn't have to return to the world I was pondering merely seconds earlier. Now I turn to my other desk. The desk that symbolizes my suffering and despair. If I wish to finish this project before Friday, I start the project now. Not tomorrow morning or in an hour. I will start working now. To show the world and to show myself that I am not limited to what I want. To what I believe I can or can't do. I will start my path of pain now, not later. I will start the slow and tortuous walk towards my dreams tonight, not tomorrow! I will get what I desire! I will go beyond my limitations! I won't be held down by my own expectations any longer! I have the power to do anything. And I will do anything. Starting right now!