Could this be Paradise?
When I become the universe and the universe becomes me.
When I try to remember dreams between sleeping and being awake.
When the flowers, the birds, the butterflies, the sea and the galaxy, who are trapped in my mind, are bursting out of my brain unto the blank paper before me.
When colors are blinding my eyes while I stay black and white.
It's all imagination.
It is all made up.
I don't know what it looks like or feels like or smells like.
The word is rooted in my mind, my unconsciousness, my dreams.
I feel as if I'm lost.
I stand in the perfect symmetry of existence but I'm not part of it.
I am colorblind.