I think of the things that surround me, listening to them carefully. I'm known for my deep thoughts on things that shouldn't and could very  well exist. My heart like any other human beings beats. My body moves and my arms move. I find new things quite an interest. I am very normal, but like every other human, I'm very different. Unique in my own strange way.

I am sitting behind a screen, a screen that seems to shut out the world, but at the very same time give it all away. I watch through the net like thing in front if me. Watch as the sun starts to set, it's colors bringing the un bring able, seemingly alive. The trees are silhouettes against the radiant light, that's there dancing amount the unseen stars. The sky is white at one point, but then follows into a series of incredible colors. Over top of me the color is blue, but it's not just one kind of blue. Not if you stare hard enough. But when you do, you see that it's a series of blues, that aren't quite named for them selves. It leads down to that amazing white that isn't really even white at all, only the elision of it. Which also brings up the brilliant pink. Which of all the colors of the sunset, is quite and very much unique. Because it's not pink at all, you really only think that. It's really not even a color I can name. Because, it definitely not orange or gold or yellow. I honestly can't name it, and that's why I like it the most. It's unique beyond belief.
The sunset it's self is getting darker, the colors slowly vanquishing beneath the mountain. I used to think I could find a way to see the whole of the sun disappear, beyond something I know not of yet. Maybe it would be a cliff, and the blazing sun would seemingly roll over it and into he darkness, only to reappear the very next day.
I look to my far right, still thinking. What I see is, clouds that used to be white and grey. Like an angels soft billowing wings. Are now bathed in the color of purple, the most exquisite of purples, one that you certainty couldn't just paint on a wall of white. A color no man could make. But the most amazing part about it is that it blends thoroughly with the true pink. The pink that's definitely pink, but an amazingly graceful pink that seems to be the background of the sky for that moment. I wander how those colors were now there, like they appeared out of know ware, like they were painted. But by what? I never will know, and I sigh.
This sigh that I take in is truly amazing. There's the tiny flash of a second ware I almost feel like I'm flying, not my being but me. My true self, my soul. It feels like it's floating upward ready to take flight, on,y to be brought down by that fearsome body, anchor to my boat. I wander if we sigh, believe hard enough. That we will be brought to a heavenly place. No heaven. Not hell. But a place no human being, no animal, no thing- can describe. A place ware although you may not know, you long to go. So much so, that you are dreaming about it every single night of your short but amazing life.
Now the sunset is less colors, but never the less radiant and truly significant. If the sunset were a mundane, it would shine like nothing ever seen in humanity, possibly in forever. More then a goddess of beauty, more then the gift of a child's birth. That mundane would be harder to resist then drugs, and chocolate. More then the sweet sound of music, and the beauty of ones soul. The sunset would almost be dangerous, if it were but a human, a mundane.
I watch now as the trees have now turned from the colors of glorious nature, to dark silhouettes in the evening light. Reaching out to the still unseen stars, like a mothers hands reaching for her child. But unlike a mothers faithful ever reaching hands, they also hold the beauty of those little pouches. Holding nothing but air and a speck of dust, that could be whisked away by a barleys ears or breeze. The closest of the tree silhouettes is by the porch that hides almost all of the ground beneath me, like a hard cap over a blonde head of weeds and streaks of green and brown hear and there, running down the long strands of the blonde weeds.
I reach my hand out, to touch the air that runs between all things, big and small. Only to have it stop abruptly, against that awful net. My fingers slide downwards, causing some dust to float hardly seen against the colors of the background, to the golden brown wood floor beneath my feet.
The table outside of the net is ever so slightly reflecting the light of the oncoming night. Almost making it look like it's damp from a weeks worth of rain, silver and a ghastly shade of purple running along it's edges and seeming to paint it's way toward the middle of the table it's self. Like an unseen brush with an unknown color of paint, in it's thin and invisible thistle like strands.
The tree before me is now silhouetted against the sunsets vanishing glow, ever so much. That I can see the smalls strings of moss reaching forward like souls yearning the beautiful and unspeakable beauty of light.
I suddenly am awakened by a tug of wander, like when you are first wakened in the morning. I look up and see a color anew to the sky. A deep blue, that it find very hard to describe. A blue that seems to set you on alert mode. Like being sent out into the dark woods in the middle of Halloween night. That excitement and fear that runs up and down your body, giving you a unimaginable feeling. I find myself wanting to swim in it's deep depths, but if I had the choice to do so, I think I'd choose not to. I'd be to frightened. But maybe I would. I would want more then life to find what was beyond that deep color, that sent that amazing feeling down your spine and into the very heart of your soul.
The pine trees are amazingly the most seeable to my naked eyes. I can still make out the faint color, of deep green nature on the very tips of there pine needles. Catching the last raise of the sunset. They look like soft brushes of air, making there way along the colors. The light that shines from some ware behind me, sets of a brilliant glow on the silhouetted trees that surround me. Causing the reaction of turning them the lightest shade of orange and yellow. And it only helped the cause, with the sunset as the background.
I now realize with quite some interest, that just before all of the sunset colors vanish, a faint hint of aquamarine is shown. Blending like pastels with the colors that surround it. It's amazing. Exquisite. Incredible. I catch the sight of a passing bird, like a black speck souring through, the now night sky, like a dark Angel of hope. A hope that we might so day find what other beauty's await us, beyond the beautiful colors of the sunset.         

Find the hidden words to the world. They are there. All you have to do is seek them from within.