Everything is colorized when a person quits the city job to live in the country.
(from Opium #1)
This story is so short, it’s really just an allegory, a new agey parable with a moral and a point. It’s simple in a way that makes you think it’s both refreshing and obvious at the same time. Won’t blow your mind. Move to the country where the colors and nice and everything is soft, but then when will you have time to work? Perhaps you should move back to the city?
This Biblical damned-if-you-do scenario calls to mind The White Stripes’ song “Little Room”:
and you’re workin’ on something good
but if it’s really good
you’re gonna need a bigger room.
And when you’re in the bigger room
you might not know what to do.
You might have to think of
how you got started
sitting in your little room.
Least that’s how i think it goes.
The President of the United States, “Peaches”