Why I Am Not A Colorful Person
I am not a colorful person because I am uninteresting. I enjoy the same bowl of milk and cereal each morning with a glass of water. White milk. Transparent H20. I arrive at school and although the daily schedule varies it is comprised of the same entities. The same 3:25 pick up and the ride home goes unchanged. A monotone experience. Black and white-mostly white. There is no color in this life. Either you're right, or you're wrong. There are no gray areas. Any variation of the rehearsed daily adventures is slight, if apparent at all. Color is not seen in my clothing or in my skin. Black is all the colors combined, yet white is nothing? I am nothing. If I am nothing, I'm certainly not colorful. A white house in the suburbs is invisible, completely lacking color. The people inside the white house in the suburbs disappear within. I have done nothing spectacular; however, I have done nothing short of acceptable. Not good or bad-just O.K. Blank.
I like this piece. It made me feel not colorful which was what you did best. The way you wrote it convinced me that you wasn't colorful at all
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