The Year of Yellow

Now, I’m not a prophet, I’m not a politician (although sometimes the latter attempt to be the former more oftentimes than not); I’m a poet. I get electricity in my fingertips sometimes and a rising helium balloon within my ribcage and it tells me something.

Years ago, this helium balloon was filled with purpose. It told me beautiful things I didn’t have the mind to translate or understand so it filled me with tears and these tears overflowed on a multitude of occasions-there was something in my future, I knew. Still, I had no clue what it was.

The summer following Sophomore year came along, and I decided to make myself happy. I had never heard of anyone just deciding to do this and succeeding, and since I’m a proud and purpose-driven individual, I took it into my own hands to create a piece of heaven for myself within myself.

I took up running (something I should probably begin to do again, but oh well).

I took up speaking small ‘hello’s and various phrases to those I passed on my paths.

I took up writing again.

I took to seeing the beauty in things-the mysterious to the mundane-instead of just trying to.

Slowly but surely, these steps on the happiness journey that is everlasting made the helium balloon deflate. This was the calling within my ribcage that I had been struggling to decipher for so long. It pushed me to speak to others, it destroyed social hierarchies, it put control of myself into my hands and not the world’s.

Then, once again-oh Hell upon the Earth-the helium balloon inflated.

Junior year.

I was happy.

I was taking my steps.

I was genuinely, generically pleased with each happenstance in my life.

Luck was on my side.

Still, that heinous helium balloon inflated.

This time, though, I came to the conclusion that it was not a mindset to be met, and ideal to be changed, values to rearrange-but a person or place that I was meant to discover.

I do believe that I am meeting these people and these places in my current situation in life.

There are various cities and stagnant situations that have become humble and familiar to me. There are people who I breathe in like the scent of spring and they are like the warmth of dried laundry; awakening as the chill of the first snowfall.

And I have discovered something strange.

They are all… Yellow.

Yes, I know the Coldplay song, and it is wonderful-but this Yellow (yes, capital ‘Y’) is not about a specific human being. This Yellow is like an arrow and I see it in hindsight, in my emotional considerations, in retrospective recollections and introspective mutterings.

This Yellow is the color of my helium balloon.

Now, I’m not saying that I follow a path tinged with warm hues; not every place I end up is colored this way. It’s simply that certain situations ring with Yellow tones and Yellow noises, like they’re trying to pollenate something-me?-with a certain… thing. More happiness? Creativity? Politics and prophecy?

All I know is that this Yellow is now my favorite color. Not the yellow of bananas, not the yellow of a lemon, not the yellow of highlighting ink… It’s the Yellow only you can understand-however abstract and bohemian this idea sounds. It’s in your head, like a light, but it doesn’t necessarily, um, glow. It’s just… Yellow.

How better to describe it-demystify this object, this haze, this persona of color-than with a poem…?

I give you

YELLOW


 

Yellow

is an angry color.

Yellow

is somewhere between

GREEN

and

RED –

an indecisive shade between

stop completely

or

increase your speed.

Yellow

is the color of the sun –

but don’t stare at that heatwave of a star too long or yellow will be just a memory.

Yellow

is the color of a common weed;

no,

not the kind that travels up your nose as a Yellow-smelling haze,

but the kind that if left to grow becomes seeds that you may wish on,

blow into a yellow-tinged sunset,

so that they can blossom

again as wishes

that will never come true.

Yellow

is the color of a laugh.

Yellow

is the light in a lover’s eyes

that illuminate and keep you warm in

the cool-toned twilight.

Yellow

is the glint of a metal medal in

yellow halogen lights

after a single human heartbeat becomes the most

exhausted

and idolized

heartbeat in the common era.

Yellow

is the color of bile.

Yellow

is the pollen of a

buttercup

a daisy

a poppy.

Yellow

will travel up your nose

and ricochet out.

Yellow

is the color of snot.

Yellow

is an allergy.

Yellow

is a eulogy.

Yellow

is the color of the

beginning

and the end.

There can be no darkness without brilliance.

Yellow

is the color of an explosion.

Yellow

is the sunrise.

Yellow

is the color of deciding to be awake.

Yellow

is life.

Yellow

is not an angry color.


Of course, I must wonder if a similar situation is happening to you humans as well. It could possibly be that we have all begun to experience these Yellow places and faces and we lack a common explanation-hopefully I have just solved this issue with the above disclosure. If a different color is beginning to dominate your life, I would be highly interested in hearing about your experiences with it.

Happy New Year, and may these three hundred and sixty-five days all be Yellow!

Much love,

Quinn ❤

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: