Many times she would just pick up a paper and pen but what she writes, it wasn't worth anything. She wanted to paint it on the walls, to shout it out loud.
She would stay up late, late at night and stare aimlessly at the stars hiding beneath the darkened skies. For a while, it would be just her and the things she wants everybody to understand.

Then she photographed a scene so beautiful. She showed it to the world but the world never really stopped to take a look. But she would still look at it, she would lay awake in bed and just think about it. It was all that she was and she loved it dearly.

It was heartbreaking when she entered high school. She wore a blue plaid uniform like everyone else and she thought uniforms were phony. Her classroom was a white box with a cold marble floor. Like all other classrooms. And it was spacious. But she still isn't free. She felt suppressed.

She hated the x's and y's . But she still has to learn about them anyway. The teacher told her she's a good student but she need to exert more effort. She said she just didn't like math and the teacher said it doesn't matter.

After a while, she studied more and more how to find the x's and y's and she threw the old photograph away.

And when she would stay up late, late at night aimlessly staring at the stars hiding beneath the darkened skies, it was still vast and beautiful and all of everything, but she wasn't anymore. She was like the plaid blue uniform and she was as cold as the marble floor, she just was like everyone else. And the things she wants others to understand didn't need explaining anymore. It had stopped being an impetus. It was trapped in a big cold white box. Numb. Just like everything else.