Shift to Grey

Colour. Is it? Not everyone thinks so. Maybe the only one there is.

It used to be black. Well trained eye could have seen the whole spectrum in black. Black is still nice but somehow grey seems more appropriate. Grey is not new black. It never will be. It never could. It is grey after all. Neutral. Without emotion. Safe. Soothing. Protecting… One can dissolve themselves within grey. Their identity. Fears. Hopes. Assumptions. Ideas. Intelligence. Ego. Sexuality. Desires. Emotions. Pain…

Accept grey and become undistinguishable part of environment, almost cease to be, at least for all intents and purposes. There is no mystery, there is no light. Just grey nothing. If nothing had a colour, it would be grey. It is so tempting to become part of nothing. Elusive. Too good to be true. Is it?

Colour of unimportant. All grey mice living their lives in the traps of cubicles, dreaming of all colours of cheese. Boring? One does not care. One has accepted grey.

Colour of city sky. Beautiful. If one likes that kind of thing. One does. The only colour that makes sense, that is true, unpretending.

Colour of being alone, even when surrounded by others. Ultimate hideout where no-one dares to follow, neither friends, nor foes. Emotional desert, where only nomads go and they know better than interrupting each other’s solitude. They embrace grey.

Colour of minimal energy. Not as wasteful as energetic and overpowering white, yet revealing enough so that it is clear there is nothing, not leaving anything for imagination, unlike black. It is truly colour of death. Neither black, mysterious and promising, nor white, inviting and pure. Just realistic grey of acceptance.

One used to believe eyes can not be grey. One was mistaken.