A Brief Glimpse Of The Book I Never Edited

The 9:00 bell in the loony bin meant it was time for George to get out his box of red crayons, and hit his adult coloring pages. He knew of at least fifty different angles to contort his crayons to get a slightly different tint of red. Those pressing, twisting, and the observation of the different tints of red meshing with each other allowed George time to make sense of what was going on in his erratic brain.


For ten years, George didn't realize that he was actually a true creative genius. He had been making these pictures out of his adult coloring books for ten years without ever missing a day while thinking the whole time that the pictures were ugly. Nobody could possibly make any sense out of the color patterns that he chose on all of his sheets of paper.

But, what very few people realized was this actually gave George a chance to sit down and really nail down his feelings , he never used prompts, he never used journals, or other people's pictures. iT was the one time in his life that he could actually just sit down and draw things and not ever have to worry what somebody else was thinking about what he was doing, because he was an incredibly sensitive human being who came across on the outside as a complete asshole, and not having a care in the world about other human beings , but George only used this shell as he just could not risk other people getting too close to him.

As if  too many people got too close to him, he knew that some day a lot of those people would have to leave his life, and that when that day came he would find himself in a horrific state of tears, and just eternal sadness that would feel like it would never go away which would leave him for years later never wanting to get back on that train again, feeling like the ride of life and living with friends and families is more like the crazy train, than the ride of life of wondering a park by yourself all day and all night is the crazy train.

So, George kept up with his coloring. That is why today, he didn't expect to have a visitor in the loony bin library. He didn't really know what books were there in the library. Adamica pulled up the chair next to him. And said, " Excuse me sir, where do you come from?"

. He just shrugged his shoulders like soebody took a piss on his favorite, banana pancakes, and he didn't know that the piss was there because it looked like the yellow on the banana skin. So, George just kept looking at his paper. He would actually pick up the paper and smile at times as he looked at his jumbled mess of lines, and lines marked in. He would also sometimes put some dots on the pictures as well. So, Adamica just sat there and smiled. Which even though if George would have been talking he would have made things clear that he didn't want to talk to her. But George really liked it. It was just like the few times that he actualyl took the train to go to other cities and check out their bars. No artist even if they are an adult colorer would not want other people sitting and admiring their work. What he didn't want was more stupid questions. Everything for George seemed like a memorized list of shit. It was just like they read the book and they do their best to try and memorize it. So, it was like life became the Taiwanese version of Groundhog's Day.  He couldn't fucking take it anymore. So, George kept on going and going with his coloring. And Sophia sat there with admiration in her eyes. But, it was different from the admiration she had for like Mister Smith, and John Asshole, admiration that they spoke English, and admiration for their skin color. It was like this guy was in his mid 40's in the loony bin in Taiwan, which if you have grown up your whole life around people that are afraid to be different, there is no bigger thing of being different than being in the loony bin in Taiwan. That just takes the cake of all cakes. It was utterly fucking ridiculous to actually think about what George was doing. George had been there for so long that he just didn't know what to do at this point. So, as George kept going and going  on the coloring, every day he had a new admirer. He never drew pictures of her, even though they wouldn;t have looked like her anyway. He couldn't exactly pinpoint her face, as he could draw faces, but they were all cartoon faces, as years ago a cartoonist came to one of the schools that George was teaching at and it was one of the few days that he actually felt energy and life. He loved watching this cartoon artist. He thought he would be able to do the cartoon stuff for his students. But, there is already so many pictures on the internet of cartoon faces, that nothing he made felt like it was good enough. So, Geo