“I’m for blue..”, she said as her eyes turned towards me.
“Me? Oh, I like brown”.
“Brown!? You can’t like brown! Nobody likes brown!”
“Exactly”. Unloved and uncared for, rejected and disposed of. A colour tolerated only out of necessity. But tell me where are your friends, blue, red and green? Perfectionist abstractions always just out of reach. Ideals the real world cannot live up to. This is the world of dirt, rust and brick, not of pure hues and pure ideas. Those extremes exist in another plane, where we are dead.
With your head turned upwards to admire the azure sky or the crimson sunset, you forget all the real beauty all around you which is altogether much closer. The earth, the tree trunks, the brick and wooden buildings. How can we scorn the warm brown colours that surround and nurture us?
You know the back of your hand well, as the saying goes. But do you really? Have you not seen it’s brown colour? Not brown you say? But black? Or white? Look again, more closely now, for it is a shade of brown, maybe darker, maybe more pink. Together we are brown. What new friendships are possible when we realise that all this time we were all the same colour?
Wave your green flag and scorn the unbeliever, show him which unexamined certainties you cling to. Unfurl your red white and blue banner and show everyone that this side of the imaginary line on the world’s surface belongs to your clan. Put on your red shirt and sing the songs of your masters. Do all this, or embrace the brown. Unostanatious, it stands for nothing. And nothing is something that has to be stood up for. No gods, no nations, no dictators. Just brown people living in a brown world.
Or maybe I just like the colour.
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| Ok. Fine. You're brown. Can we start the game now? |
