Perspective

I was told that the world is not black and white. The grey area symbolizes irreducibility, an invalidation of mutual exclusivity. It is a comforting discovery at first, but the resulting stoic acceptance of all complexities warrants some caution.

I considered the recognition of grey as an act of empathy, but perhaps it is a coward’s tool. It lightens the black and darkens the white into a hue I can safely subscribe to. It has led me to fear dissonance and to chase a narrow unity of the mind. After all, consciousness is an individual experience that prefers stability. The whole oneness of existence.

Time and time again, I am shown that the world is in fact, black and white. What I should have been told instead is that it is not black or white. I would like to experience these colors as they are, before they are diluted by my self-conservation efforts. It is the only way I will truly understand, something I’ve tried very hard not to do before.

I’m not even sure if this is making any sense, really. I feel as though the argument may only apply on a case-by-case basis, in which the thickness of the brush and the texture of the paper matter just as much in painting the perspective I’ve attempted to describe.