A box of crayons..

“Life is like a box of crayons. Most people are the 8-color boxes, but what you're really looking for are the 64-color boxes with the sharpeners on the back. I fancy myself to be a 64-color box, though I've got a few missing. It's ok though, because I've got some more vibrant colors like periwinkle at my disposal. I have a bit of a problem though in that I can only meet the 8-color boxes. Does anyone else have that problem? I mean there are so many different colors of life, of feeling, of articulation.. so when I meet someone who's an 8-color type.. I'm like, "hey girl, magenta!" and she's like, "oh, you mean purple!" and she goes off on her purple thing, and I'm like, "no - I want magenta!"” -John Mayer-

What do you think when you read the quote above. It's a quote of one of my favorite singer, John Mayer. He said that life is like a box of crayons. Do you agree with this statement? I do. When saying life is like a box of crayons, it means that life is colourful and with the one set of crayons, you can create other colors. Each color represents the moment you have in your life. Is it cheerful? Is it gloomy? Is it blue? Is it full of anger? Or anything else? Just like in life, you can choose what colors you want to use. What I can say is that even though one color can represent some feelings but in the end it's you and your perception that decides what it really is. Try looking things from the positive side of life. But one wise man said that in life, you must be able to feel all the feelings exist. This means that when life is like a set of crayons, make sure you've used all of the crayons in the paper of your book of life. Here's one article about the conversations of the crayons. It's a really good one=)

While walking in a toy store the day before today, I overheard a crayon box with many things to say.
"I don't like red!" said yellow. And green said, "Nor do I!" And no one here likes orange, but no one knows quite why." "We are a box of crayons that really doesn't get along," said blue to all the others "something here is wrong!"

Well, I bought that box of crayons and took it home with me and laid out all the crayons so the crayons could all see. They watched me as I colored with red and blue and green and black and white and orange and every color in between.

They watched as green became the grass and blue became the sky. The yellow sun was shining bright on white clouds drifting by. Colors changing as they touched, becoming something new. They watched me as I colored. They watched till I was through.

And when I'd finally finished, I began to walk away. And as I did the crayon box had something more to say... "I do like red!" said the yellow and green said, "So do I!" "And blue you are terrific so high up in the sky."

"We’re like a box of crayons each of us unique, but when we get together the picture is complete."

Maybe we should develop a Crayola bomb as our next secret weapon. A happiness weapon. A beauty bomb. And every time a crisis developed, we would launch one. It would explode high in the air - explode softly - and send thousands, millions, of little parachutes into the air. Floating down to earth - boxes of Crayolas. And we wouldn’t go cheap, either - not little boxes of eight. Boxes of sixty-four, with the sharpener built right in. With silver and gold and copper, magenta and peach and lime, amber and umber and all the rest. And people would smile and get a little funny look on their faces and cover the world with imagination. ~Robert Fulghum

(poem from here - images via justbesplendid.tumblr & flickr)