Black is the new Orange… I mean.. um… oh.

I totally just read this as black is the new orange.  Like, not only did my brain process it, but I also saw it. The word Orange was read out Black. How does that make sense? Our brains are so weird! I SAW the word Black in the color black. Orange was literally in orange. Like, my brain had photoshopped the image into something else. Isn’t that strange? How our brains can manipulate time and space without affecting a thing? I can picture myself writing this message in slow-motion, actually play it out in my mind, but it Imagenever happened like that. I never saw it in slow-motion, so how does our brain know what it would look like? How does it show it to us? How can I imagine graphics that are well beyond our century? Something that doesn’t exist can be formed instantaneously in our minds. I can will myself to imagine what the new iphone will look like, and come up with a design that has never existed. It has never met human eyes or ears. I’ve never heard it described, and yet there it is… floating in the inner thoughts of my mind. Another thing… how do we SEE what is in our mind? How can we recall a memory? How is it that I can visually picture a work by van gogh, and it magically appears in my eyes supposedly? What makes it possible? I seem to be limiting myself to the screen. The tiny pixels that are placed side-by-side to create the illusion of a physical object. What then, is allowing our eyes to see such things? I don’t buy into the fact that bent light and irises are what creates sight. No more do I buy into the fact that our brains are capable of producing such an image. No… this is truly by the Glory of God. There is nothing so remarkable that we could do these things by our own accord. First of all, we are incapable of such a thought as to work out how to produce such a thing. Our minds cannot fathom how our eyes can let in light, remember it, and show it to us later. When I’ve read a book, I don’t remember the words on the paper. I don’t remember flipping through the pages to continue the story. I remember fluint movie-like memories of events I’ve never experienced. Of deaths I’ve never witnessed. Of miracles that never took place. I remember falling in love, getting my heart broken, feeling the despair… the triumph. I remember these things, and they are no more real than the box I am typing this message into. They are no more real than the design made up in our heads for that next iphone. The image that was never constructed. And yet, in all of these ways, they are as real as you and I. Every little thought that passes through our head, be it an opinion or realization, or even imagination, it determines who we are and what we stand for. Every little thing, every little hint, is one more step. Our minds interpret what we’ve read, and we are changed because of it. Those images that we draw up in our heads are just one more tiny, enormously significant piece to the puzzle. So surely, we are not capable of such an intricate design. Something that exists such as this is not controlled by us, or even monitored. It is used liberally, and most likely with the gratitude of a snail.

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