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What I Know

I had a dream last night.

I entered a new room and there were many people inside this place. It had no walls that I could see and it was both familiar and foreign to me. Many faces I could recognize, some I even called by name. The new ones approached me cautiously and asked me what I was.

I told them I was purple. The familiar insisted I was green. Shaking my head I spoke again that I was purple, and showed them my skin. It was green.

So in my confusion I used my pallet and my brush and began to mix the blue and the red of purple. I began to paint myself and asked for help, yet they insisted to keep me green. I checked my skin and it was so. In frustration I then mixed more blue and red, slapping the purple onto my body.

They shook their heads and called me green.

Slowly I look at myself, and knew that inside there was purple. But the green was too strong a colour and masked it. I could not make them see the purple, it only shown in my eyes. Purple was my colour. I look at my skin and it is a mess of the two.

I look at the expectant faces, and mix anew. I add yellow to the blue, and resigned myself to green. For how do I exist, if not through the eyes of the other?

Story by:

Stephanie Buosi

11 January 2013

Stephanie Buosi's web:

playingatphilosophy.wordpress.com