#36 ~ Dirty White

It’s never pure. What is pure anyway. Clean? What’s clean? On a microscopic level clean doesn’t exist. Besides, we define it by a colour, and we all know that at the end of the colour spectrum colour doesn’t exist. White is simply the conglomeration of colour. Black is the absence. But I could see it. It’s multitude of children had swamped the winter grass that stuck up like freshly shaved hair on the green giant’s chin. Spiky, bristly, called to attention, straight back, rich green, their chlorophyl uniform polished to a T, or maybe that should be a C, or a G…

It just wasn’t that pure. A swan got mildly confused after lunchtime, or maybe just got smart and realized the icy water was far lower on the mercury thermometer than the frosted sugar lawns. It flapped over and plonked its behind in the middle of the quad. If it could read, and the wafer flakes weren’t piled so high, it would have seen the “Do not walk on the grass” sign. But then again it wasn’t walking, it was sitting, and it couldn’t read, or see the sign. So it wasn’t really a problem…

Except I could see it. Which means it also wasn’t white. Not even a dirty white. More like a yellow-white, which they like to call cream, except when they call it white…

After a few people had walked over it, leaving Jesus like footprints behind, the opposing end of the colour wheel, not Fortune’s wheel, just the MS Paint spectrum, started to crop up. It splattered itself in granular splodges. Over here, under there. It just looked messy. Dirty.

I mean…it just wasn’t pure.

But then…it did blind me. Like pincers plucking at my eye. The sun was having a ball playing tricks on people. Is that a huge cloud, below me? Whoa, maybe I should take a dive and see if it tastes like candy floss. No. A few feet below is Mother Earth with her menopausal green hairs sticking out to prick you – she forgot to pluck.

So there we had it. Another day of horizontal angels, and lumpy men with football heads. I suppose it was a fun day. It just wasn’t a white day. I mean, because I could see it. It had a colour, which is better, because it means it was really there.

My Dirty White Sunday.

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3 thoughts on “#36 ~ Dirty White

  1. T says:

    what are you on about???

  2. T says:

    nahhh fam :/

    anyways, you know me, too flowery and not to the point.

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