TheHeroOfTime97

There's a certain way people use words.

We've all felt it. Perhaps we haven't accomplished it, but we've experienced it.

Something in the way it reads, something in the words and how they're meshed.

It can start your heart going, give you hope.

Sometimes it's in the way someone did the music in a movie.

Sometimes it's that youtube video that you walked away from, changed.

People use it to get money, popularity, sympathy…you name it.

But when someone, somewhere out there in our gigantic world, whom we've never met, seen, or heard of, writes or videos something we can't ignore. . .

You can Facebook it, Tweet it, Pin it, Share it, Like it, Follow it, Subscribe to it, you can do whatever you like.

There's hope for our generation.

Not in memes, games, quotes, music, pictures, sayings, people, stars, celebrities, movies, pop-culture. . .

In us.

"We are the target market.

We set the corporate target.

But, we are slaves of what we want. " – Switchfoot

What are we doing to ourselves?

 Sitting here, doing nothing, learning nothing, talking about nothing, fighting and debating about nothing, voicing our opinions about nothing, buying nothing, selling nothing, convincing people that nothing is worth your time.

Nothing is worth your time.

None of it.

I can't tell you this and have you believe it. You have to choose to believe it. You know it deep inside yourself.

Wasted lives.

Whispers come every time you click the screen, with every video you watch. Another 5 minutes, another 10. One more episode. One more fandom.

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They command us.

We are slaves of what we want.

There is hope for our generation.

We could be so much more than this.

So much more than internet sensations.

 

We just have to want it.

 

 

 

She tried and tried, but her heart just wasn't in it that day. Her sketches were as bland as the words on the page. When she wasn't drawing, she was writing, and when she couldn't write, she drew, and when she couldn't draw, she wrote. Both were particularly unhelpful tonight. Maybe it was the weather: dreary, rainy, depressing, and probably smothering her creative outlook.
"Maybe tracing would be easier," she thought. The lines weren't straight.
"Perhaps writing a song would work." The lines didn't rhyme.
Things just were not going well on that rainy night in the city. All she could hear were the raindrops on the avenues, highways, and back alleys, the knick knacks on her counter rattling with the thunder, and the round lanterns (imported straight from Japan and China) blowing back and forth under her ceiling fan.
"Reading?" she asked herself. "No, still too much to do."
Yet here she sat, blankly staring at a screen that was no more helpful than the rain outside. Papers were scattered around her chair, filled with either the first chapters of a novel (which would have been supremely popular over every other in her time), or the beginnings of a sketch of a girl or a boy, doing something or other depending on their expressions.
"I just need to step back."
The digital-green clock read "1:00AM" but that was the usual for her. The streets were still busy in the city: so was she. Or at least, she was trying to be busy. She was trying very hard to be busy. But, artist's and writer's block had finally forced her outside onto her little apartment's "back porch." The lines of the city were blurred without her glasses, but she wasn't about to put them back on. The rain felt too nice on her discouraged face. She took a deep breath, and the refreshing moment was spoiled by the inhalation of exhaust from the cars, taxis, and trucks below. They looked like little blurs too.
Suddenly, a burst on inspiration hit her. She ran back inside without drying her hair or her face and sat down on the floor. Ravenously, she grabbed a piece of drawn on paper and found a blank space. She sat for at least an hour trying to get it right, occasionally going outside and coming back in, looking out the windows, and taking her glasses on and off.
The result was amazing, with or without glasses! She didn't sleep that night, but she wrote a short paragraph for her sketch, showered, dressed, and drove down to the Agency at "6:00AM," according to the clock.
They loved it, all of it, and the next day it was up on a billboard, sponsoring some perfume they had named after it: "The Raining City."  

"For us. For all the girls who are doing something or other, hitting blank pages and spacing out. Sometimes we have to blur the lines to see them."
- Kendall Hayden