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The White

The white outside my window is just so Mr. Clean white. No tea stains, no crusty spaghetti loops, no dingy grey nor muddy brown.

It's not that cold but the white makes me cold. I think I'll pass on suntanning on the deck today.
The white came in all at once like it did a week before, and overnight. God is forgetting to use His Head n Shoulders shampoo, and I curse Him under my breath. He will not make friends this way.

I will cower and cover under blankets, although cold is not paired with the bleached. I will wear sunglasses while staring into its abyss. I will brazenly point a loaded banana in its face and damn it to all melting Hell.

I will say No to the white.
Yes, I will say No.

White birds up above flying in a white sky collide and crash to the white ground never to be discerned again.

White cats go for a walk on white side walks and sniff the whiteness of the snow, and yowl.
Google maps blinded by the virgin stain warp cell phone crystals, its GPS fails and the tech giant gets lost.

The Pope calls on all black cloaked nuns living in this milky morass to guide traffic. The nuns obey. Civilization in this whiter than white survives.

No, I do not condone nor will I tolerate this rape of all colour. If white is the binary 0 of the tech savvy 1, then I say we remove all 0s and begin anew with 2, with colour, with vibrancy, with a humanity-laced hue. The downed Internet be damned!

On this white day, and in this white world, I will choose to remove myself from its void and tread lightly upon my mind's eye flying carpet to a place of lushness and life.

Good riddance, White, for I shall not spy you ever again. May Mr. Clean spill TV ad ink all over your bleakness!