I miss the old days. When everything was black and white. All these new shades of grey make it difficult to perceive what the big picture really holds. But maybe we started adding different shades because we needed to filter ourselves. We could not let the world discover our true identities and it developed into a domino effect. We deemed ourselves unworthy or “not enough.” We became the image they wanted to see and the voices they longed to hear. Now we’re merely an echo of what society want us to be. Got lost in the process of trying to be found. I get hushed in the crowds and tuned out while eyes role if my opinion dares to differ with theirs. How dare I speak my mind, how dare I point out injustice, I was prettier when I was quiet. Suddenly I don’t want to be pretty anymore. I want to be heard, hell, I’ll be hideous. Maybe then they’ll be looking away and their ears might actually function. Maybe they’ll realize I’m not an empty headed robot created to fulfill set standards, but someone with potential to change the world. See, I stopped believing I could. I tuned myself out too, got muted by all the sounds. Yet I’ve come to question, why is the noise so loud? Why are they so relentless to silence me? Afraid that my words could start a revolution. Scared it might alter their robotic world. Might not change the world, but I will not consent to it changing me. I’m no stepford wife to their dismay. I am raw and natural and demand a reaction; I’ve come to find those to be the best type of photographs.

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