briefly, yellow and the moon
It’s always been yellow. I’ve been trying to deviate from it for so many times, but none worked out. Yellow, lemon yellow to be specific, is the color of my life. It’s the color of fire, of attention. It draws you in and when you come close, it’s just there, warm and sour-sweet. Like the lemon drops that we’ve all had at certain point of our childhoods. And always glossy on the surface, but the color is so rich that even the reflection is the same shade of lemon yellow. I tried to love blue, for a very long period of time. Water blue, that how I call the color. A very pale kind of blue that rivers have on a clear sunny day, is the color of the reflection of a bright happy blue sky in water. Blue is calm, and faithful, so I’ve been told, and it’s deep, it’s a very profound color to love. But I can’t do it. For I can’t help but fall for the brightness and liveliness that lemon yellow possesses. It captures my soul every time I see it. The apple of my eye, is a yellow one (this is such a bad line).
The moon is slowly rising, and the field is scattered with lights, so parts and parts of the night town can be revealed with all the quietness and stillness of (how would one call things like buildings and trees together?). Buildings and nature. I mistook the moon with street lamps earlier, but I kept looking towards it as though that ball of light was different than the rest. It was different. It was dimmer, and larger, more diffused into the night sky. Then, like a needle sized hammer finally penetrated through my thick, dull, out-of-use skull and wacked on my brain with a crispy “ding”, I realized that it was the moon, hanging low but still above all, shines like a humble goddess.
How the leaves seem to be on fire behind me!