Hey people. Toolsman here. So I’m still on the road and internet is really crapy so I’ll keep posting from my phone. As a result I can’t bring you a wedesday dialogue today but I’ll definitely make this up to you guys. Today I’ll be featuring a guest named Abdulkareem Fareeda. I think this piece is beautiful.. I’d like to know what y’all think. Enjoy.
An endless stretch of green. Could be grass could be people
You know? Those ones that constitute the word “generic”
Randomly drifting in and out of life, sometimes making impacts, but gone within seconds. Visible, unworthy of immense note.
I’m walking, my background color the same as these generic strangers.
The indigo boy passes and splatters me with just a touch of indifference. He passes by, unconcerned with the world and hateful of humanity. Despite that hate, indigo boy belongs. He has a smattering of indigo dotting the psychological landscape that is life. He passes by me and in that instant I’m unconcerned. I hate life and people and for a moment, we bond, but like the generic, green, he disappears into the wilderness.
The girl with the red lipstick dances across the fields. She is alluring. Her eyes pop with color and her skin glows with a healthy radiance. Her body is well shaped, and for the briefest of seconds I run across to dance with her. I almost get there, and I stop. For as alluring as the girl in the red lipstick is, she is a shallow concept. I take a few steps and kiss her on the lips. I envy her life, but I will never want it as badly as I crave other things. My faint red lips give me some measure of comfort. I walk away while she keeps dancing, attracting the green and indigo.
I’m headed towards the twins. Fair skinned wonders in violet jumpers, wearing purple-streaked sunglasses. They seem serious. The green stalks surrounding them are rigid and unflinching. They are the ones I crave to belong with. These are the kryptonite to the girl with the red-lipstick. In place of her beauty, they have intelligence. Life is nothing but a ball to pore over and analyze. Life is a big interesting puzzle for them. I walk past them scared to belong to such greatness. As I take my first step away, I am pulled back for the briefest of hugs. The front of me is coated in violet. I am welcome, but I will never truly belong. I will always be placed in the second or third position, never top dog.
I am a complication, coated in green, violet, indigo and red. Where do my people lie?
It comes to me, inner peace. The warm yellow glow of salvation and inner peace is what I need to balance my chaotic mental easel. The yellow people float above, their happy faces molded in almost permanent contentment. Their sinless existence makes them weightless, hovering above the dirt streaked ground where the sinners exist. I want to fly. I CAN fly. Perhaps I have found my niche. I am ascending and with each height, parts of my body become yellow. They begin with my eyes.
I drop back to earth with a jolt. Two large blue streaks have been painted on my back, but I still have my yellow eyes. This is the land of the almost sinful. Here, there a lines of red, yellow, indigo, violet, green and orange. The center is pained a deep blue that seems to seep out of the lines, but always retracts. We toe the line between saints and sinners. We sin enough to be rejected by saints, but are never bad enough to be worthy of the title sinner. It’s a confusing section. For a moment, I touch the faint red on my lips and crave to dance, but my yellow eyes burn and I’m back to reality. I cannot stay here, the pain of indecision is too much.
Orange perhaps? The orange haired boy. The lone wolf, the optimistic pessimist. His section is completely orange, untouched by any color. I want to join him, but the weight of the other colors make this very hard. I am incapable of being an outcast. Perhaps his neighbors, the indigo boys will accept me? No, I do not have enough indigo on me to fit in.
Alas I stand, even more confused. The rainbow splattered girl, plopped right in the middle of the field.
Where are my people?


  1. jAyajade
    Loved the story….. I'd be happy if I was Rainbow splattered though… not as an 'average' but as a 'non-norm' different from everyone but the same as everyone. I understand the sadness though… loneliness..
  2. ngeezee
    hmmm. . so the rainbow girl is a lesbian tho cos notice how she didnt kiss any of the coloured boys lips. . .

    im just sayin. . explains the confusion. . .

    carry on

  3. FOXY
    ok… so after i read d article, i had to read thru d comments and was surprised to c there r 2 others like me… it's jst a summary of me … no matter how friendly i seem 2 be or we seem 2 get along for sum time, after some time these relationships jst seem to drift away… i constantly feel a yarning in me that make me aware of how displeased i am being in the background cos i really jst dont fit in … it's so sad… very sad cold world. thinking back i probably feel comfortable sometimes wiv having my space n all but then there's always this awareness that am all alone n when i meet wiv lets say brown, i dont feel comfy cos i knw i deserve more color…
  4. agboola
    I like the writer's mind. I like how he tries to describe the people of the world with colors. It could be a better piece. One needs patience to write this.

    Nice piece still.

  5. Adaora
    agboola she's a she!lol and this is just beautiful. the way you wrote it, i was a bit confused but now i totally understand….good one! *clapping* go fareeda!!
  6. PreyingMantis
    "Here, there a lines of red, yellow, indigo, violet, green and orange". *are*

    "The center is pained a deep blue that seems to seep out of the lines, but always retracts". *painted*

    This gave me a headache the first time I read it. I read it again and I discovered the beauty within. You didn't say much about the orange boy. Till now I don't get why you'd want to join him – lone wolf, optimistic pessimist. Is that all there is? Maybe if you had said more, who knows.

    This piece is about one's aspirations, inadequacies, limitations, expectations, fears etc. To the ignorant, this piece is gibberish at its best. I found it fascinating.

    1. annie
      i was actually hoping u'd add this – "…His section is completely orange, untouched by any color…" surely that should be untouched by any OTHER colour…? but yeah, i've been waiting 4 u ALL day & as usual u helped.:)
  7. ThinkTank!
    Lovely little thing…

    Aren't we all rainbow coloured people?

    So many commenters feel this is for them, well thats probably because it is for us all. Anyone that is human enough to admit being human and realize that no one is simple.

    Life is not white and black, people are not simple things. Some are predominantly one colour but that is because life is a paintbrush, experiences are paint, in the end, after living enough of life, we learn that we are all rainbow people.

    Your people are everywhere.

  8. Drpeperempe
    Beautiful piece! Every human is a mishmash of colours but predominantly one! I believe the drawing board had a colour b4 the splatter of the painters brush n the wood a form b4 the blades of the carver!

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