A/N: Written while I was in a very odd mood, sorry if it's weird, eh heh. Based on a quote by Magdalena Abakanowicz.

Paint

Red paint here, black paint there, a tad of blue here.

Sometimes I question whether or not I grasp reality, or even insanity, for that matter. As if neither are really the way I am. It's an odd feeling really, as if I'm floating, but still on the ground. Maybe a dream. But not exactly a dream.

Red paint here, black paint there, a tad of blue here.

While I try to conform to reality, or even to insanity for that matter; I've really lost track of which world I want back, or even if I want them back at all. Or even if I had them in the first place. Because all that's familiar to me is the drive that I feel each day to keep painting.

As if...I am its tool.

But, at this point in time, I'm content with that.

Red paint here, black paint there, a tad of blue here.