I don’t know what this is about… maybe I’ll know by the end of it.

It's a day of grey and white.

This morning - this afternoon - I woke up not knowing what day it was. The window was open - both windows - and I was weird. I was not tired, but not rested. I was not dreaming, but not awake either.

I was in my grey room with my grey sheets and my grey computer beside me, looking at the grey sky.

The sky was missing. Not literally… it was there - sort of.

Every time I see white clouds in a blue sky, the beginning of The Simpsons theme song plays in my head on repeat. Today was not one of those days.

Get up, make my bed, check my phone - I don’t reply to anyone.

It’s f*****g humid in here. It’s probably because my windows are open to the grey sky in my grey room with my grey sheets and my grey computer side me.

I read for two hours… I think. I don’t check the time.

I go downstairs to my white house with my white mom and my white fridge to pull out the white-washed yellow lentil dal which my white mom calls “coco curry.” It’s not f*****g curry.

I cook the brown rice on the black stove in the silver pot with a brown spoon.

Put it in a blue bowl.

I’m sad now.

Back to my room to type on a grey computer to a white document with a red title in front of a white desktop.

I think I know what this is about.