My friend Doug would say that living beige is banal; It’s bland, simply…surviving.
I beg to differ.
For the first time in my life, I’m choosing beige. I’m saying good bye to the drama of red and the sadness that goes with blue.
Sometimes I’m green, but not like, “green with envy”, more like a crunchy granola green. You know, a sage green.
Not minty green either, because that would make me spicy with a coolness about me, and I don’t feel too spicy at this point in my life.
I’m beige.
Living beige means that I am no longer playing on the bi-polar swing set.
I no longer have a NEED to be in the center of the universe, which in my very obnoxious opinion would just so happen to be where I call home. New York City.
I now live on a backwards little island, somewhere between trendy Miami and the bizarre bible belt of America.
I like to imagine the island I live on as an updated version of the old TV show called “Northern Exposure”.
In the “Southern Exposure” screenplay that is only in MY mind, I create characters of the people with whom I come in contact daily.
For my entertainment, I am thankful that most of them… have not “evolved” to beige.
I say evolved to beige only because that is kind of how I feel whilst “living beige”.
I did not arrive here this color. I was very much a rainbow of emotion and passion.
Then something happened. Was it good? Was it bad?
It was beige.
It has been a slow and steady journey, each of the colors bleeding out of me like the dye from a brand new T-shirt in a load of white laundry.
I have become the comfortable old shirt you can’t wait to put on after a long day at work.
I like being beige. I feel at peace.
Welcome to my Buddhaful journey.
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