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theres this fallacy overlooked in the focal corner of logic where the line between honesty and objective truth disconnects, while the cord tangles the more you stutter a voice of reason. two heads spinning on the color wheel, his blue can be her red. we'll mistake the tied tounge of uncertainty for a shared norm when we were never seeing the same sky at all.
but where did this insistence that we all must call it the same begin?
this is where we find our freedom, the cathartic reckoning that every shade we see is true in its own right. colorblindness dont need its correction, itss a different world we're all seeing over the phosphene.
– the permanent bruise.
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afroaza
im printing this out and putting it on my fridge
fridge of philosophical despair
by donquixote; ; Report
(thank you .///.)
by donquixote; ; Report
fridge of heartbreak and depression
by afroaza; ; Report