Grey Hues

Gray was a color I knew all too well. And it wasn't something I'd learned from my father. No, as a matter of fact I'd picked that up myself. I know it sounds doubtful, but it is true. I can learn and think for myself. Everyone mistakes my father's close relationship with me for something else. People think he controls me, shapes my every thought and action. But it's not true. He didn't shape me, he merely set a path before me and I chose to take it.

Gray has always been an appealing hue to me. Not just because it happens to be the color of my eyes, or of the sky in winter but also for it's deeply metaphorical meanings.

Gray.

The medium between black and white. Everyone associates black with evil and white with good. I don't know if I believe that entirely. I think of gray more black than white. I think of myself as gray. So does that mean I'm more evil than good? I don't know for sure. When you think about it - living an evil life is more zestful. Less rewarding, yes, but very zestful. No rules, no boundaries, no limits, no expectations, only impulse and desire, it's only about what you want. Isn't that what it should be all about? Living for what you want? Instead of trying to please everyone else? If nothing else, evil spells live backwards.

Gray is like the blurry tone that no one can define. It's abstract. Like emotion. But at the same time it's devoid of emotion. Grey is mute and bleak. It separates two colors and unites them at the same time. It's untouchable. Like my heart. I feel like my emotions have been pushed so far from my priorities and concerns that it's really not present anymore. I seem to run on autopilot. I have had impeccable control of my emotions and actions for as long as I can remember. Always cool, collected and in control, but yet somehow secretive. Like gray.

Walking the gray line. Everyone's heard of it before, but I don't think anyone has lived it like myself. Living on the gray line gives freedoms and restrictions. Some may say that I was all black. All evil, all dark and all sinister. But I wasn't, really. I may have presented myself in the manner of black, but I was still gray. Still undecided. I may have been all black talk, but all gray walk. I would shout and preach my sinister ways, but when presented with a dark occasion I would most certainly run back to gray. Always. Freedoms of the gray line were most comforting. Gray is a comforting tone. You don't take sides, your always in a neutral position, you're not quite good and you're not quite bad, you can be almost anything you want to be. Gray is such a versatile lifestyle. It was so easy to be gray.

My whole life was painted in gray hues. So vague and ambivalent. Unstable and unsure. I used to be so happy and content to be gray. But now, I'm wishing my life would have a splash of decisive color. Reds! Blues! Yellows! Something concrete! Something exciting! Something new! I don't want to be black, I don't want to white, and I don't want to be gray. Not anymore. No more blurry lines. It's all vivid now. No more gray scale, no more sepia tone. I'm Technicolor now. No more gray.