Shades of Sanity

Blue

Everything is aquamarine.
Something is sapphire.
I wonder if that's what color my eyes are - when they're open. I wonder if they're a deep, dark shade, like an abysmal ocean blue, or if they're a nearly pastel shade of silver blue. I wonder if they're dull or bright. I wonder if they're big and wide or small and narrow. I wonder what people think of them when they first see them-
People.
I forgot about people.
People aren't blue. But everything is blue.
Everything wasn't blue a moment ago.
I can't remember what everything was a moment ago. I don't think that there was anything a minute ago. Where was I a minute ago?
Where am I now?
There isn't anything that I can see, because my eyes are closed. I wonder if there is anything else I can feel.
I wonder if I can feel people. Are there people near me? Why wouldn't there be? Why would there be?
Where are people? What are people? Are they blue? What is blue?
Blue is bleeding. It's crawlking across my periphery like a spider, weaving webs that I keep trying to shake off but I can't. There are water droplets dripping down the silky strings of silver, reflecting under light that doesn't exist and falling into my hand.
Is there something in my hand?
I can feel something in my hand.
Is it water? It feels cold. Or is it warm? I think it's cold. It's rough, but it's smooth. I think it's moving. I don't know if it's water or ice or steam, if it's liquid or solid or gas.
I wonder what it thinks of my eyes.