They call them 'indigo children'. Intellects, geniuses. They're in tune with the world, with 'indigo auras'.
I am nowhere close to that. I am as far from there as you can get. I represent the polar opposite, the John Q. Public of the world of mental matters. I have no 'indigo aura'.
I am orange. I am copper, I am brass, I am gold. I am bronze, third place; bringing up the rear in the cerebral categories.
My people are just as orange as I am. Kitty is orange. Raides is orange. Duchess is orange, as are Algernon, Henry, Andross, Sarge, and "A.C.E.". All oranger than an afternoon sky, than the blazing sundrop that seeps through the sluiced horizons during. All like brushed copper gears in my steampunk psyche. All bursts of sparks from my vintage tin toy space gun.
They stem from me like branches on a tree. They wind and writhe away, turning to the sun in their own ways. Some have flowers, others have leaves. Some have dew, some have disease.
My people are just as diverse as I am. I broke myself to pieces to find them, and they break to pieces to find themselves. I used prime factorization and split until I just couldn't see the seams anymore. I sorted the shards out to make my factors, and yet they still have more. They have depth, have heart, have soul. They have a voice, and they're not afraid to use it.
It's like a song, a concerto, an orchestra. Each piece is a culmination of individual instruments, each one blaring a different sound. They fit like crosswords, like jigsaw pieces. They mesh like cogs in clockwork. They flash like lights at night, each a pattern in a strobe light. Neon Morse code.
Kitty smiles a lot. She grins wide and flashes her teeth that shimmer like a paparazzi raid.
Andross loves his hat. He'd wear it through a tornado.
Algernon is afraid of what he's created. Terrified of actually helping the world.
Raides doesn't want to move. He wants to lay dead forever.
Duchess feels like dancing. Moving to the beat of nothing.
Henry rages against the machine. Rages against the cage he locked himself in.
Sarge remembers he's still human. Wonders if he can ever forget.
I am nowhere close to that. I am as far from there as you can get. I represent the polar opposite, the John Q. Public of the world of mental matters. I have no 'indigo aura'.
I am orange. I am copper, I am brass, I am gold. I am bronze, third place; bringing up the rear in the cerebral categories.
My people are just as orange as I am. Kitty is orange. Raides is orange. Duchess is orange, as are Algernon, Henry, Andross, Sarge, and "A.C.E.". All oranger than an afternoon sky, than the blazing sundrop that seeps through the sluiced horizons during. All like brushed copper gears in my steampunk psyche. All bursts of sparks from my vintage tin toy space gun.
They stem from me like branches on a tree. They wind and writhe away, turning to the sun in their own ways. Some have flowers, others have leaves. Some have dew, some have disease.
My people are just as diverse as I am. I broke myself to pieces to find them, and they break to pieces to find themselves. I used prime factorization and split until I just couldn't see the seams anymore. I sorted the shards out to make my factors, and yet they still have more. They have depth, have heart, have soul. They have a voice, and they're not afraid to use it.
It's like a song, a concerto, an orchestra. Each piece is a culmination of individual instruments, each one blaring a different sound. They fit like crosswords, like jigsaw pieces. They mesh like cogs in clockwork. They flash like lights at night, each a pattern in a strobe light. Neon Morse code.
Kitty smiles a lot. She grins wide and flashes her teeth that shimmer like a paparazzi raid.
Andross loves his hat. He'd wear it through a tornado.
Algernon is afraid of what he's created. Terrified of actually helping the world.
Raides doesn't want to move. He wants to lay dead forever.
Duchess feels like dancing. Moving to the beat of nothing.
Henry rages against the machine. Rages against the cage he locked himself in.
Sarge remembers he's still human. Wonders if he can ever forget.
