Time. And time, again.

I like red. There’s red and then, there’s red, and that latter is the one I like. Warmer, colder, brighter, darker… 0xFF0000 is my red. I didn’t always like red, I must admit. But it’s the color that worked.

Few people notice, but whenever I discuss something actually important, I talk in symbols and quotes, using references as words in a vocabulary that doesn’t fit into human language in hopes to convey meanings that it can never truly hold. Maybe it’s a side-effect of how I learned words, and it’s so easy to say, “that’s how it is”, but if it were that simple, if I could squeeze my worldview into a tiny word, it would distort space with it’s mass and fall through the floor.

That red is special. It is the color of fire that a fire never has, it is the color of blood, that the blood never is, it is the color of hope, that has no color at all.

But when I look at myself on the screen, I remember I still have it, somewhere, somehow, despite everything, that hope that tomorrow will be a new day, and that one day, after one more try, one more push, and one more sharp word, it will all actually work.

And I have the reddest hair in Second Life.

And I have the reddest hair in Second Life.

And then I fail.

And then I get up and try again in a different way.

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4 thoughts on “Time. And time, again.

  1. If we knew we would never fail at anything we did, how much would we actually try to accomplish? The possibility of failure is a powerful motivational force.

    Red is the spice of life; Red is love, red is power, red is hate, red is fear. Red is everything we are and everything we never will be.

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