Everything's the same, really. Or at least as same as everything can be.

All that we see are the reflections of objects that we assume are there – worn out, typical wavelengths of electromagnetic radiation find their way to our retinas and present themselves to us as images.

There aren't any exceptions.

No person can see beyond the spectrum of visible light. We are bound to the unchanging constants, the shades of red and hues of blue, the greens and the purples and the oranges and yellows. The rainbow is colorful. But how long can something be colorful? How long does it take before it loses its gleam and its mystical novelty?

"Color is beautiful," someone might say.

And I suppose I might partially agree with that someone, maybe.

What we have is "nice." It allows us to survive. And I guess surviving is pretty beautiful, at least most or some of the time. Our vision lets us get by in a world that revolves around getting by.

But I want to do a damn lot more than "get by."

I'm sick of the palette. It's as if all of my paint has been mixed around by some deranged two-year-old, and all I see now is a haze, a blurry and unfocused stop-motion film of my life, coated, dripping in sepia.

And I can't take it anymore. I can't.

I want to see into the infrared, to gaze through the ultraviolet. I want to know what it's like.

But I can't. I can't.

When people see me avoiding work and sleeping, they immediately slap on the label "lazy."

I'm not lazy. I'm thinking. I'm thinking because I want to know.

I want to know more, I want to see more.

And that's all anyone could ever want, really. To want to know more. To understand beyond the point of human understanding, to delve into something, to be capable of comprehending a shard of existence that no one else can.

We all want to be special.

But I don't know if we all are.

And I guess it's not knowing that makes me human.

I may be a shinobi; I may be able to see more of the world than most civilians, but the shades and hues that we see are all the same.

And it's because we're human.

Hopelessly, helplessly, monochromatically human.

Thanks for reading. I send fluffy clouds of appreciation your way.

-Cole