My wardrobe is full of blues. From a variety of t-shirts to jeans, they are all in shades of blues.
My sister often complains that I only wear few of reds I own, in my ballroom classes. She hasn’t seen me in any other colour than red during classes.
How does colour calls me? May be they reflect the shades of my mood. When I am in my dance classes, I feel full of energy, I feel gushed with a shoulder relived of the stress.
The blues reflect the state of calm I bear at my work. They represent my individuality. The integrity I hold to enable me survive the wrath of reality.
But the right shade of blue, is the my beautiful kind of blue. It’s the blue of my face, when I see you unexpectedly. The beauty so radiant that I forget to breathe in for the moments you pass by near me.
I remember the blushes when I used to think about you. And the cynasosis when I seldom see you in the rush.
Whatever shades of life come through, I enjoy both reds and blues. I may not have more of reds but they are my beautiful blues.