(Writing from an allien/different perspective)
Everyday day I wake, every day the same struggles. I hear the world around in blazing colours and infinite forms. Hear the expanse of space and time itself but with no more clarity than a child reading Shakespeare. Words mixed with a cacophony of rustles and steps, breathing and bites. The scent of stale falsified flowers drifting up from blue - or possibly purple - clothes. Nothing made much sense to me, never would now.
Is the sky truly blue?
What is blue?
Is it the ocean or is it a sapphire?
What about blueberries?
Why are they called such if they're apparently purple?
I get up, never seeing a corner to any room. The world is fuzzy like the texture of felt, edges melted together like candle wax. A person is a figure taller than I but with a similar haziness. A person in the sun is like an angel, bathed in light and impossible to identify. A person in darkness is grainy like a poor picture, colours muted to the standard of an old black and white movie.
Hair identifies the person, and yet it's colour is so vague. Black or brown, brown or blonde, blonde or platinum - what is the difference?
Is platinum not a metal?
How can a person have hair of metal?
Eyes too! Why do they hold so much power?
Is an eye not the cause of misconception?
I see yet I do not believe.
I see skies of wonder that morph to bewildering depths, teamed with stars that blink with dreams. Leaves are like umbrellas for trees, coloured in eternal cycles of ever-changing thoughts - grass a ruffled blanket of some strange yet calming illusion.
Water is the thing I love. In water, everything is hazy for all. Water is a travelling mass of jewels that can cost all or sustain life. Water has substance with no real sight. It blends and swirls in a way you need not ever see.
Still, colour is the wonder of the world. I may not understand it, and I shall never understand it, but one need never understand true beauty.
I do not see the world you see, but that does not mean I do not love it...
