like a plain canvas.

trying to draw itself. trying to draw what she loves.

It was once a beautiful drawing. until it washed away with a white paint with its artist.

the canvas suffered while it begins to turn white and plain.

then it starts to draw herself a beautiful painting. much much much more beautiful than before.

the drawing was not even a full flower. it were just petals. the petals were alive and so happy. they, together plan to create a masterpiece painting ahead.

But the artist did not like it and soon enough through the canvas with a plain white paint.

The artist said “don’t make the flowers alive. you can only paint them.”

the canvas suffers and longing for the petals who were about to grow.

but now its too late.

the canvas was never destined to draw herself a beautiful painting

maybe its already been beautiful all along. even without the paint, even in its emptiness


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