Moderns. Mannerisms. Monochrome.

The entrustment of any one thing, person or idea can claim your sanity.

Emotions draw on a biological force of unbalance that we try and try again to take hold of because society has deemed them to be invalid, incomprehensible or insane.

We must always fit to the perfect spoke within the societal standards of mannerisms and moderns in order to stay “in order.”

Things aren’t always as they seem, nor do they seem as they are. One sentence written with the same words with two different connotations. Why?


There is no black or white. There is only gray. After all, none of us are black or white. It is biologically impossible to be such; in discussion pertaining correct biology, skin pigmentation or hair follicle.

But we do tend to gray.

We find gray in our readings, conversations, politics, writings and foremost, our ideas.

The slate is spread across our time like a sheet of shiny marble. We make a table out of it with supporting legs, each granted by our experiences though some may wobble. A Table, a cleared Table waiting for your feast of color.

Waiting to be set and filled with all the miraculous wonders and enjoyments that will be felt and shared. Indulged sweetness of oneself should be served as the main course.

Eat. Drink. Be Merry.

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