When you think of colours, do you think of what they represent?
If you say red, I think passion, blood, vivala vida!
If you say white, I think of the clouds in the sky and the purity of the colour that really is… nothing.
If you say black, I think of the innate evil within all of us, the darkness of mankind.
But what if you ask about the colour grey?
I have no answer, in my mind there is nothing but a murky blur of nonsensical thing, the blending of the most pure and the most sinister. The lines are blurred and jagged, we don’t know the start of the colour and we don’t know the definition. The world is a huge wormhole in which grey exists within everything, in the air, in our bodies and in our souls.
There simply is no true black of true white, isn’t it but the darkest hue of grey? Is is not the lightest tone of grey?
We live in a world that is grey itself, the area in which we trod, between the light and the dark, between ”good” and ”evil”. The death of one is the start of another, there is no good, no bad.
So if you ask me again, what I think of when you say grey, I will answer you truthfully:
Grey is the world we live in.
Grey is where we are.