The sun is beaming dramatically through my window, dragging me towards a curious world awaiting me outside. There, the trees rustle gently in the calming wind, begging me to admire their varying hues of vibrant greens and daring burnt oranges. As I tiptoe towards the window, the landscape of my room shifts eagerly with me and suddenly I’m surrounded with giggling shades of fuschia and assorted cool grays. I’m intertwining with each unruly square, as abstract endings and points dictate my next move. I’m outside now and I dive into a pool of dark, brave purples. They change to laughing lavenders and then to serious browns. I chuckle softly at the innocent oranges swimming beside me, begging to be coddled by my caring eyes. From the pool, I admire the sky as it transforms into a chilling sunset yellow and the tranquility and emotion of such a rich color swallows me. So I drift down, down… down. Into an abyss of lime green grass, and further still until the grainy soil devours me and I hit “the bottom.” It’s cold at the bottom. I gaze longingly at the oasis of mesmerizing colors playing above me. Searching around myself, I grasp at a leafy orange lying solemnly next to me. It’s trapped between two evil, barky, brows. The orange calls sweetly to me, whispering calming thoughts in my ear. The bottom is confusing. I wish for everything to be simple again and I’m caught day-dreaming of the floating world above me. I quickly realized that down here it is all a facade. A mask of wise colors that trick you into falling even deeper. “It’s easier, down here,” they call. They tease and beg. They threaten and hiss. They convince you that staying here with them is better than all the emotion gliding blissfully above. And for a second, a single fleeting moment, I want to trust them. I want to just give up here, complacently, letting them pull me down. It really is easier… but I miss the other colors. I miss playful rosy pinks and brilliant sky blues. So I close my eyes and push bravely away from the bottom.