Gemotions

He stared at the documents, a single, unwavering thought echoing in his mind: *I am not this person.* Mark felt a wave of… something akin to defiance… wash over him. He felt an urge to scream, to shout to the world. He swallowed it. Instead, he started planning.

He quit his desk job. He was a graphic designer, stuck in a routine. Now he was a painter. He bought a large canvas, and splashed color onto it, the act of creation consuming him. He had always wanted to do this, and now, it felt necessary. He stayed up all night, fueled by coffee and a burning creative energy.