greyness

Life. Oh, what a huge sorrow was when I realized that all those high pink walls that my mother so skillfully eradicated around my sister and I began to disappear. I despised the greyness of life. I still do, though now I feel I am part of it. And I do not have what it takes to rebuild those walls. I don't have the strength to fight against everyone and everything. Because they are me, and I am them. I don't have the strength to fight against myself. My grey self that swallowed my colourful self. But I think this is part of being a grown up. This greyness. This tiredness. This seriousness...

Life. What is it's meaning? You always come back to it. And always in the worst moments...