Wednesday, November 21, 2007

It's Not Easy, Being Green

I think that I've decided that green isn't. There really isn't any color there, but our eyes think that no color at all is boring and would make them feel useless. So they interpret the lack of color for us.

The consequences if they didn't would be horrible, though, you have to admit. No more green means I'd try to walk through the huge wall instead of using the door to get to the next room, and end up hurting myself pretty badly.

I wouldn't ever know if my plants were doing well, or if someone had snuck in and stole them in the middle of the night. I'd end up watering them, hoping that it was doing some good, until the day I decided they must not be there any longer, as there's no chance I could manage to keep a plant alive for so long. But once I stopped watering, of course the plant would die, proving that it had been there in the first place by changing to brown.

I'd also no longer be able to wear my green shirts, of which I have a few, or my green flannel, which is the only flannel I have anymore, since my blue one decided that adding a few holes would be an interesting experiment in the conservation of matter. I'd have to wear some other color of shirt for obvious reasons. I'd have to find a new flannel, as this one would have gone missing ages ago.

And, of course, my eyes would probably be right. If they're not willing to show me what's there, what good are they? They'd be pretty boring, and I'd start using them less, instead developing my sense of hearing and practice echo-location.

I don't want to have to sleep upside down. I'm glad I can still see the color green.

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