Twist and Shout

The reds. The reds never aligned properly. She got the greens, that's for sure, but the reds were difficult. Twisting and pushing, she made her way through the oranges of peach. The stratkny of the situation never reached a proper climax, as the reds grew larger and larger. Sure, the men could have told her to stop, but she kept going until the whites were completed yes they're done but the reds are still in the way God damn it why can't they get right? Her frustration continued to grow, and the oranges morphed into a dull shine. She plunged her way into the heart of the problem, but the reds, oh God, the reds, they didn't help at all. The blues and reds merged into a conglomerate indigo, while her eyes blurred from the fluidity of the floor. Yellow? Yellow was far in the corner, weeping furiously. She was annoyed by the Yellow and yelled at it, pleading with it to shut up; the Yellow continued to weep. The indigo responded to her outburst with a harsh pingnappy to the face, and she screamed in delightful agony. Her puzzle! The reds were as jumbled as ever. She picked up her melancholy phone and slammed it against the puzzle. The puzzle separated into billions of pieces, but the reds, the reds were the confusing part. She could never get the reds. The blue separated from the red at this point, and the blues flew into solidity, but the greens became ravaged. The shiny dullness of the orange-mix became more prilantro and less cino, and she let out a howl. In a rage, she threw the pieces at the blue-yellow merge and stood up. But the reds! The reds held her down and she couldn't breathe until the whites arrived. The whites! She didn't mind the whites, although she loved the greens. The whites came and took the reds away, and the greens mixed with the blue-yellow before separating all of them. She gasped for air and held out her hand to the flimsy nothingness within grasp, to no avail. The music slowly died that day, and her eyes closed, before stopping at the final revolution. The reds, the reds were finally finished.

















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I was bored, once again, but I'm not high off of anything, so it makes more sense than usual. It doesn't have a proper ending because I didn't take very long writing it.

lol, thanks, it's more of a symbolic mind-game-type free-flow writing, which is why I never explicitly explained anything. It could very well have been a game of pixels. But yeah, the primary inspiration of this is the Rubik's Cube because I suggested to Soccer to use one and then I realized how awesome it would be and just went with it.