Life has a way of putting you through the wringer and back. To the extent that your vision becomes clouded by haziness. You stop looking for an excuse to look for color and become fixated on the dreary and the drab. All color is, is an excuse to burn brightly into happiness. When all you want to do is sink beneath the depths of darkness. Becoming emotionally attached to colors so dark that it would burn a hole straight to your soul. When you’re hurting all you want is for the world to mimic your same emotion. Become a backdrop to your own misery. Transitioning from the grays to slates and into the dark black night sky. Those are all the colors you want to see. Something emotionally profound that only your broken soul could understand.
Its the darkness with it’s smoke and mirrors. Illusions causing reflections of our own inner sadness that transcends into our waking day. This storm setting of overcast skies that causes everything to read in black and white. My soul only understands the darkness. The darkness that harbors my sadness better than I ever could. I’ve had my fair share of misery. I’ve basked in the glory of my own self pity and darkness. All I wanted to see was everything in dark tragic colors. It became my only way to communicate to the world. Through my own self reflections, I wanted my outsides to reflect my insides. To purge out my pain with the darkest of colors I could think of. Not an ounce of color. Not even a single strand. My vision sees the color but my thoughts only see in black and white and grays and slates.
Pain has a way of chipping away at the things that you love the most. Turning everything you once loved into an array of things you start to despise. You could point the blame on everyone but find yourself blaming yourself for your own unhappiness. This hurt that suffocates and squeezes at your insides and takes away any ounce of light. Its the light that you reach out for to save you from this darkness. The light that can turn the dark skies brightly shined by the moonlight. The light that can illuminate a thousand stars to lead you home. When you’re ready to change, the colors start coming to you slowly. First you watch the stars illuminate your path and realize that the sky as black as night is really a darkest shade of blue. When you wake you start to notice the flowers start to bloom and you watch the colors they have been hibernating inside. As your sadness starts chipping away you start embracing the colors that surround you. You look forward to sunrises and sunsets. You start looking forward to daylight as you once looked forward to the night.
You start screaming away the pain in color. Screaming out the vibrant blues and vivid greens. Reaching out to touch the colors just as they were painted for you to see. You start to wonder what was so great about sadness. What harbored all this darkness that made you pay no mind to the color that you see before you. Most days are longer than others. Most days you wrap yourself up with different shades of the colors from your memory and other days you can’t seem to cooperate with the daylight. Some days are easier than others. Some days you wake up and fill your heart with every pure emotion you feel. You project your outsides just as you feel your insides with a vibrancy of color that you feel. Other days you watch yourself strip away the color and return to the darkness that you harbored so carefully. But its no longer a burden for you. Its no longer something you keep trapped away for no one to see. Instead you start to realize that stars can’t shine without a little darkness. Days aren’t suppose to be easy but eventually one day you’ll understand everything.
Everything starts with a little color. Color blooming from every corner of your atmosphere. Some days are better than others. Some days get harder but eventually one day you’ll be okay. The colors will always be there to guide you home. Guiding your darkest days into the light. You just have to see it illuminate your way. You’ll get there.
I am a sucker for sunsets. Where the colors of the sky blend chaotically into the atmosphere. Where the fades of sky blues tarnish into the clouds to form bright pinks to luscious violets and transition with their oranges into the dark skies we see at night. Maybe I am the only one that sees it that way. Watching this transformation of color just happen before my eyes. The more I try and explain myself, the more people point out the flaws and dismantle the sunset that I love. Colors of sunsets are a lot like dreams, everyone has their own perception of them. No matter how many times a person puts their two cents in about color, I can’t help but feel they have it all wrong. Everyone wants this picturesque sunset to photograph and show the world. To mark it up to their own perspection of beauty and edit out all the flaws. The more they capture the more they turn it around and change it. Editing reality you take away the beauty of it all. Flaws and all.
Maybe we are going about it all wrong. Taking pictures of the sky doesn’t give the sky it’s beautiful justice. The colors that are sketched into my mind never show up as beautiful as I photograph them. Wouldn’t it be amazing if we could photograph the sky without the need of digital devices? No sunset looks as beautiful as it exist in my memory. No sunset can be photographed to its picturesque perfection. Why do I bother explaining the things I love, when someone is going to come around and change everything? You can’t put a filter on my sunsets and tell me that this is what you see. You can’t tell me that life as you photograph it is what I am suppose to see. I find myself allowing others fears and perception of beauty filter into my own ideas. I find myself wanting to change the things I once loved all for the sake of finding something beautiful. I can drive myself crazy trying to change every single one of the flaws but in the end its the imperfections that make everything so damn beautiful.
Nostalgia always has a way of letting us down. Every once in a while people will find a way to let you down and break you heart. Sunsets will come and go and all you’re left with are all the colors they leave behind in your memory. Sometimes staring up at the sky is better than staying asleep and dreaming. Dreams are only real in your memory but sunsets are fucking there for the taking. Don’t allow anyone else’s perceptions of your reality change what you see. Then again what do I know, sunsets are just sunsets. Colors are just as over exaggerated as our dreams. Sometimes people are right, maybe the sunset that I see is in the wrong placement of everything I want. Maybe the colors that I see aren’t as important as what anyone else sees. Who knows. All I care about is feeling something other than nothing. Seeing the colors for everything they are worth, there for my amusement. I’ll never find the perfect sunset everyone claims exists. Maybe I am wrong for loving all the things that I do but for what it’s worth, I still fall in love every time I look up at the sky as the sun sets. That’s all I could ever ask for, falling in love with colors before the darkness hits. It’s through color that we truly believe in ourselves, it’s before the dark that we reach for the light again. That’s all I could ever want.
Talking shit about a pretty sunset Blanketing opinions that I’ll probably regret soon I’ve changed my mind so much I cant even trust it My mind changed me so much I cant even trust myself