The mind is it's own individual being.

A Story by SPIDEY

Read it.

It was during the times when I fell into nothingness. Everything started feeling gray and blue. I processed blue as a brighter color than gray and that is what i chose. The stubble hard rocks by the sea. That was my point of isolation. I looked into distance to see a person probably feeling the same way i did. Probably killing time and sorrows just the way i did. He waved at me and I right back at him. He became my waving friend. I would always come back to this point whenever darkness tried taking over. I'd leave my spirits behind and take my place where i temporarily belonged. By my waving sea and my waving friend. But clouds drifted away. So did the dark gray day and Spectrum came into play. I saw her and grinned. And she just waved back. It was a spark towards a something. Maybe acquaintance. Maybe friendship. Or maybe something more. Or maybe nothing at all. But spirit had joined me today and nothing could dampen my spirits and imagination. But wait. Something did. I looked back at my friend. He smiled. The tiniest of the curls played at his lips. And he flew away in wisps of smoke. I realized my mind was a chef and he a dish. A dish, an image my mind cooked up to strengthen me. My absolute defense. Life's weird. And it is what it is. I looked back at her. And she looked back at me.