why beige homes are the bane of my existence

by the time i got to 5th grade i realised how significantly colourless my classroom had become. in kindgergarten, everything was so vibrant. but as i entered a new grade level, some of the charm of being in the classroom was, piece by piece, taken off the walls. now, in 10th grade, the classroom is dull, lifeless, and it makes me miserable. 

we have psychologists intensely analyising and studying the human mind to find a reason for the mental health crisis in young people (that's slowly becoming an all-age thing the older we get). even though it's so fucking simple, literally ask anyone "what would make you less depressed" and like probably 5/10 people will agree we need to bring back colour. you can say whatever you want, but god made the rainbow as a token of an ancient promise, so why do we selfish ass beings think we have no need for the rainbow? i never felt suicidal until 2nd grade when i felt a meltdown coming in because the walls, ceiling, desks, and floor were just white and beige. my mom's inspiration for home decor comes from hobby lobby's washed out, pastel and beige/white decor. and she's frequently taking a jab at me for feeling pure rage once i walked into our parsonage one day and finding that my dad replaced the wine-red walls that fit so nicely next to the dark brown wood accent with fucking egg-shell white. i'm not even being dramatic, i tried to like minimalism for the longest time but i realised that by not putting any good colour in my bedroom, it was making me significantly more attracted to bashing my face into a tree (until it's nothing but ears haha turnover reference). 

i also feel like beige homes are very much unnatural. it took god only a week (or however long it actually was according to your own ideas) to decide that the earth was perfectly good flushed with green, blue, and every other colour coming along into that. bananas are warm yellow, apples are red or a nice lime green, berries are nice shades of cool tone, and the sky is a multitude of colours that makes some believe it was painted by someone. now, with the permanence of our shitty post-industrial lives (ignoring how nice it is for the most part), we spend most hours of our lives, like probably 80 years of it, inside. back in the day, people had plenty of colour, it almost looked ridiculous. "let's paint this wall yellow, but then paint this one a gray-blue! and make the couch have a floral pattern that doesn't match!" but by the time the 90s rolled around, people wanted everything to look 'modern', and by modern they met monochromatic. black and white. now, in the 2020s, people have decided to spice it up by adding beige. fucking beige. and if they simply have no choice but to have colour, they make sure it's pastel enough that those things are considered 'baby pink' 'baby blue' 'white tinted yellow'. i hope no one justifies this by saying it was quarantine overstimulating people because frankly, i'm understimulated and ready to fall face down dead. 

when i got to choose my room colour for the very first time, my parents made fun of me for choosing a bright purple, but everytime they bring up how mad i was that my dad ruined the interior of our house, they say at least i have my fluorescent ass bedroom. maybe if i didn't the entire wheel of god's light-ray creation i would be like other kids my age, doing drugs, having sucks, and smashing people's trashcans. 

all i'm saying is, we need to remodel our country (america and also canada) to bring back the joy of art. paint your car pink, NOW