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Color

What’s life without color? Not color the unfortunate blind cannot see, but the color gifted upon each human mind to fill the imagination for the future and memory for the past.

Memory carries in it the imagination to build castles and shanties around events we walked through (sometimes with our eyes and minds closed). Color makes it happen, color that lights up the brain and the heart.

A summer of love, winter of heartbreak. A spring of success, autumn of failure and false hopes. What affords these poetic descriptions is the color we bestow upon the happenings of our lives.

That summer of love was so perfect, so magical, so green. It was bursting with life each and every moment. The color green pervades all the songs we listened to, all the days and nights we lived through, the drives we took together and the places we stopped only to look at each other some more.

The winter that followed was also perfect in its frigid-blue warm blanket heartache. God was smiling down on me, telling me what goes up simply must come down. The winter also had its songs – ones I listened to alone. The drives I took and the days and nights I passed were all my own, not shared with you or anyone else. In that they were special. What else but color affords such exclusivity to call something so deeply my own, even if it be sorrow?

The walks, the smell of the air, the questions in my mind on a certain day forever etched in memory – all these are color that fills my picture. I will always remember the buildup to each rare moment of truth, epiphany, ecstasy, and denouement. Color pervaded the portentous play of the clock; color of unknown, mystery, blissful ignorance of both near and distant futures that defines the living man.

I live and dream in vivid color. It’s my constitution and from what I’ve seen, it’s unlike most others’.

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