Dragged Down by the Weight of Existence

As he fondled the rubik's cube he worried about all the comments he had been receiving recently. It seemed as though anyone would ever mention to him anymore was how fast his hair was greying. He wasn't worried about the fact his hair was going grey, but he didn't like that it was all anyone ever noticed or said.

The acceleration of discoloration wasn't any phenomenon. It's simply something that happens in life. While it may have been happening to him a bit sooner than most it wasn't as distressing as it would be if he were to be losing his hair. He stood up and set the cube down on the table and walked to the bathroom. In front of the sink he stood looking into the mirror pondering if he should dye his hair. He thought to himself that it might stop the comments, but then he realized that it might bring new comments.

Would everyone then notice that he had dyed his hair and start teasing him about that? All he wanted was for people to stop bothering him about something so absurd. "Is that all they see when they look at me," he asked himself. He had larger problems on his mind than what color his hair is or was. He found it curious that this was the only change they took notice of.

Later he went to the store and took a detour to the hair dye aisle. Corn Leaf Blond, Muddy Creek Brown, Raspberry Truffle. He couldn't believe on top of feeling bad enough for looking that he had to endure these idiotic names. No, what he needed was shit stain brown. That might as well have been the color he was searching for. He walked out of the aisle without choosing any of the products. He decided to keep his hair the way it was.

He figured the storm clouds are grey, and no one makes fun of them for their color. So why couldn't his hair be grey? Grey is such a natural color that it shouldn't be discriminated against more so than any other.

He went home and worked on the rubik's cube some more. He considered peeling the stickers off and rearranging them so all the colors would be on a side. He decided against that though. Looking at all the colors on the cube made him think of M.C. Escher's work. All he could think of when he thought of that art was grey. The absence of color didn't subtract from the art. In fact, he thought it enhanced the detail and focus of what was truly important to see.

What of all the black and white photographs? Those were just simply shades of grey, but did that take away from the material? It didn't and some people today still prefer a black and white photograph. He found beauty in the simplicity. Without color there didn't seem to be as much distraction. That's not to say that something bursting with color doesn't have its place, but when he really wanted to focus it was nice to not have so much to take in.