A Point of View

Standard question mark
Image via Wikipedia

Garden eggs taste like the colour green. I haven’t eaten one in years, but when I see the colour green I taste garden eggs. I have always felt like a question mark. That is the overwhelming sense of myself that I get. In my subconscious mind my physical dimensions are twisted and contorted into a question mark, upside down in an upright world, not morally, just facing the other way. The forlorn look on my face completes the image, the quizzical dot at the bottom. I am a question mark that wonders. That is perpetually confused, that is not sure but desperately wants to cling to some surety. A very clever friend once said “everybody is kind of a synesthete”. One of those people whose senses are cross matched in unusual ways, people who see taste, or are spoken to by inanimate objects. Like most people, I’ve…

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