to all the dreamers out there

I spent a long ass time looking for this tonight because I vaguely remembered it and it's message. finally found it and I'd like to share,

Square And Brown

He always wanted to explain things, but no-one cared.

So he drew.

Sometimes he would just draw and it wasn’t anything.

He wanted to carve it in stone or write it in the sky.

He would lie out on the grass and look up in the sky and it would only
be the sky and the things inside him that needed saying.

And it was after that that he drew the picture.

It was a beautiful picture.

He kept it under his pillow and would let no-one see it.

And he would look at it every night and think about it.

And when it was dark and his eyes were closed he could see it still.

And it was all of him and he loved it.

When he started school he brought it with him.

Not to show anyone, but just to have it with him like a friend.

It was funny about school.

He sat in a square brown desk like all the other square brown desks

and he thought it would be red.

And his room was a square brown room, like all the other rooms.

And it was tight and close. And stiff.

He hated to hold the pencil and chalk, with his arm stiff and his feet

flat on the floor, stiff, with the teacher watching and watching.

The teacher came and spoke to him.

She told him to wear a tie like all the other boys.

He said he didn’t like them and she said it didn’t matter.

After that they drew.

And he drew all yellow and it was the way he felt about morning.

And it was beautiful.

The teacher came and smiled at him.

“What’s this?” She said.”Why don’t you draw something like Ken’s drawing? Isn’t it beautiful?”

After that his mother bought him a tie and he always drew airplanes

and rocket ships like everyone else.

And he threw the old picture away.

And when he lay out alone looking at the sky, it was big and blue;

and all of everything, but he wasn’t anymore.

He was square and brown inside and his hands were stiff.

And he was like everyone else.

All the things inside him that needed

saying

didn’t need it anymore.

They had stopped pushing.

It was crushed. Stiff.

Like everything else.

Author: Written by an English schoolboy, sent in by Klaas van Dalen.Source: Raphael House Newsletter Aug 1986

DON'T EVER LET ANYONE TELL YOU THAT YOU CAN'T DO SOMETHING. THE WORLD IS YOURS AND YOURS TO KEEP. NOTHING WILL CHANGE THAT.

It disgusts me sometimes how the school system is run and how children are stripped of their right to dream and create. The youth is filled with hopes and dreams and they're being poisoned, forced to conform, fed bullshit from day one. Might as well trash our earth, pollute our air and dump our garbage into the seas. oh wait. nvm.

ps. I'm incredibly grateful that I dream and am allowed to dream. It is a privilege we have that many people in our history have fought for and is often overlooked.

Be thankful and never take it for granted.