Blue. Blue is all I see. Palettes of dark blue, light blue, indigo - all finely spattered on the ground. All blue towards the horizon. Thank god it's not red. If it was, I would be thirsty by now. Yellow is bad too. Every time the world is yellow I feel sick and nostalgic. In my opinion green and blue are the best. Green brings me food to eat. Blue gives me water and the wind. The cool breeze is so nice. It gently caressed my face, played with my hair, and dried my tears.
I have been crying; crying as I walked aimlessly around this world. Again and again I have fallen down the dark dents, tripping on the light grooves. I have to constantly keep my eyes towards the ground all the time so that I wouldn't get hurt; and I don't want to get hurt.
I remember once I forgot to keep my eyes on my path. I tripped and fell on my face. It hurt but I didn't cry. I'm a boy, and boys shouldn't cry. But then my mother scolded me. She was really angry with me. I cried.
My mother has always been like this. She scolds me all the time. Other than when she shouts at me, she barely talks to me. She is very distant, as if she lives on the moon. Come to think of it, she always stares towards the moon. I looked up at that direction once, to see what's so special about the moon. My mother saw me do this so she scolded me. I cried. But in that brief instant I looked up, I remembered seeing something very interesting. Teardrops were all over the sky, glittering. The moon was crying.