Compresses in the chipped walls of this learning institution, everyone sticks to anyone. They hungerly reach out and grab the most worn face and plaster it on themselves, becoming another rotting zombie. They parade their weakness, letting the uncomftorable clothes hand or the hoop earings droop. They all see with their own eyes, but refuse to judge for themselves; they have their minds but refuse to think or form trials, they have their own voices but do not sing their own song. They are all shadows of eachother, a sea of dull somber shades of the vibrant livley colors they could be.

There is a vast, an endless field of of a multitude of the constant nightmarish faces that refuse to let go of the reflections of eachother, for fear of anothers blind judgment. There are layers of the systimatic beauty and words that die after they pass the quivering lip. The mirror droops with exhaustion from witnessing the corresponding masks.

I refuse to let the mirror droop, for it will see an honest face. May it not be beautuful or pleasing to others, it is my peice of flesh that has an inescapable will for blood to course through the veins. I'd rather my face be shown than obscured by another's insecurities.

My own eyes will reveal my own humble hue and behold the world as a place to thrive in as a lion reigns in the wild. The color of my lips will be my own and the the chants and lullabies I sing will have been born from my open nourished mind.
I refuse to be ordinary, to let the grey and black choke my spectrum of light. All captives of ordinary shall rally their strangeness and collect forigne tongues of a new idea and rant in the rain. In the rain they will shed the insecurities of others and with that, born themselves with a spectrum of colors unseen and gift the world with their talents and individuality.

The duplicate faces that reflect one another in the hall are ghosts for their own body with flesh and breath.Ghost should take a moment and bathe in the moonlight or listen to the music of their voice; they should introduce a pen to a paper of blush themselves with strokes of paint.

Stand up to the desired ordinary and close your eyes to know what your soul feels like, what your voice sounds like, and what your dreams look like.