People say life is colourful. 

    I take literally as that life has a collection of different colours, like a rainbow, or even richer than that.

    I wondered and keep wondering if one's life showed only one colour, what it would be? This actually can be true to the blind, to who black is the sole colour. How about others? What happens to mine? Is my life colourful at all? Because it is hard for myself to observe fairly on me and I do not want others to judge my life, no one really is allowed to have a fair say on this, well I can live with that.

    When I sit in a quiet place, surrounded by spring flowers, I ask myself: if I had a choice, what colour I would like to have in my life?

    I think I'd like it white.

    I like it white not because I think that I am absolutely pure or I have no stains in my life at all.

    I like it white because I think white is powerful. White is a colour that mixes all colours in an unique way that all other colours disappear, and any slight imbalance would let a strange colour to show up easily.

    I like it white because I think white is modest. Gold may be rich; red may be superior and black may be harsh, while white means no threat to anyone.

    I like it white because I think white is beautiful. Every time you run out of ideas for using what colour to decorate your room, your body even your bride, white is the best colour for you, every time.

    If I had a choice of the colour of my life, it must be white.