Black, is simple the color that we seen in outer space. The color of night, life’s color.
I’ve been complicated with my thought. I even think to myself how my ideas are unusual. Darkness, perhaps where I should lie and rest, withdraw from life.
In blog, in individualism, where no boundaries, no obligations stand covering me from the life that I could live in. This is actually the worst that I can get, the worst way that I can live, but the best place where I can get my precious part to live with: identity.
They have washed out my identity, brainwashed me with this busy life. Optimum results, wealthy life, family respects. While once in a lifetime we could live a normal life, share the happy moments with our closest ones. Am I an anomaly, or simply an egoist person?
Life has treated me like shit. I thought, we have the equal opportunity to survive and live our ideals in life. But when this power we have comes and appears in front of people’s eyes, these are nothing but a planted burden inside my neck. Why they bother things that they even didn’t own?
To live the present to the fullest, that’s how my life’s been after all. They just don’t want to understand, they have their own way, they laugh their own way, and they cry their own way. This, I’ve been thinking on, we’re not living with a unified mindset. In this perspective, indeed I’m the problem in their life, in my black dark life.
I remember places where we laughed, where we chased our dreams together, where we built happiness from nothing but simple things we had in life: a simple yet great friendly dinner across the street, a deep cigarette sip in a night walk, a musical jogging in a sunny Sunday morning. Yes, dull moments come sometimes, but time offers me more than emotionless relationship, tasteless food, or motionless traveling.
Black has been painted in my life, and it will always be that way. – Life|Black -
