Black Magic

I don't believe in it but over the time I have come to an understanding that I am really taken by some black magic. And guess what, I am not interested in nailing down the sorcerer, for I enjoy these black attacks.

It starts with small pangs of shopping desire, and by the time it is over, my shopping cart wears a black smile. At least one part of my formal outfit has to be black, or nearest shade of black. Ties or shoes, no discrimination in color. Levi's or Newport, jeans and Ts are ritually black. The bag that carries them and other stuff is black too. Think of time and the Titan sports its black outline on the wrist. Call me and the black Sony W810i will spring to life. Work is tolerable because the black Lenovo T60 is pleasant to look at. The latest addition to the black armour is the 4-wheeled beauty Honda Accord Coupe. Any future purchase plan starts with imagining its black beauty. If a girl is beautiful (the 'if' is unnecessary here), she is gorgeous in black. There is much to my black obsession. I certainly am in possession of some black spirit.

Color is almost a natural element in our lives, like the air we breathe. Every now and then we face its importance. Not only for us, it's important for others we care too. Think of pleasing kids and think of their favorite color. Think of a gift for him/her and his/her favorite color comes to the mind. Think of surprising someone and color surely is an option. Your moves center around your choice of color. But when it becomes an obsession, its effect is no less than a magic. In my case, it's black magic. Almost.