this time i'll get better

chapter 25: favorite color

I don't know what's my favorite color is anymore. I don't think I have a favorite color. Because whenever anyones asks "what's your favorite color?", I'll come up with different colors for every question. At first I didn't know why I answer that way. Perhaps I didn't really have a favorite color. But now, it seems to me that I like how uncertain and vague of a person I am. How a simple question could lead to a spiral of confusion. How having a favorite color is too easily defined. Those who like dark colors are more likely to be troubled or how people who like bright ones are cheerful. However, I am neither. I like nor dislike any colors. The answer to that question depends on some sort of feeling or mood that I were to feel at the moment. Maybe it's because the need to be vague, to be undefined. I like how difficult it is to be understand me. How everyone would scratch their head or stares in confusion at me. I like how people find me weird just because I say I don't have a favorite color or preferred taste. Because I don't want them to know me. Because all the people that has left me knew my favorite color. Because sharing is a weakness. They might use it against me like a kryptonite to Superman. Because sharing the simplest of things scares me. Because I am not important to be remembered. Let alone to remember what my favorite color is. I would like my colors be ones that had never been seen by anyone. A color that is exclusively for me.