10 Years from Now

(Spoken Word)

Today this broad, size 12, paintbrush helps me meet deadlines. I turn to it when I need to. I use it when I want to.


It was special once but it is just a paintbrush now. I am growing up you see?

I use it differently to complete my work efficiently when on a time-crunch, as you clearly see I bite the tip of my brush frustrated wishing for an idea to appear magically,

AHAHA magic it seems…

I shall rephrase,

Wishing to get somewhere, to the end of this task preferably, to impress in the most conventional ways of the conventional world.

In the next ten years I will grow into a professional, loose dreams that wanted me to become a visionary. And in that way of the chosen perspective I may end up becoming a little tick in the tick tock tick tock of the mechanism of the rational world without a moment to spare on the beauty of life. The dark shadows under my eyes will begin to haunt my very existence.

So on one of those gloomy days where my ideas seemed to have been washed out of my brain, when I have nothing creative left in me, when the mechanics drive me to exhaustion. I will be forced to open the cardboard box to find,

My Paintbrush lying on a pile of cartridge sheets.

Blowing off the dust, I’ll take the paintbrush in my hands.

Hello! It says Remember me?

Uh yeah, why are you talking?

Hey! We used to talk all the time!

Yes… but I am all grown up you know?

That’s why I’m here! It’ll say to paint away all the rationalities!!

And I will sit myself down just to drift away into a childlike trace, to once again be curious and inquisitive, and to be colourful.

Ten years from now, my paintbrush will teach me how to breathe.


it will teach me how to breathe.


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