Knots made of Red

I sat in a restaurant today with dim lighting, and the entire time I felt dazed from the half-light, like my eyes were only half open, even though I knew they were wide open, and the red light filled my eyes. A friend recently told me that in films they use fake blood, and it is referred to as “red”–not blood. It is the viewer that interprets the red as blood, and it’s interesting to me and I can’t stop thinking about it. So I sat there, in that booth, and I wanted to know why I wasn’t seeing blood, in that red light. Or here, in the coffee shop. Why aren’t the walls covered in blood to me? They are just red.

Or if you go the other way, why do things that I know aren’t real feel so real and tangible? Abstract things? The thought takes me places that I can’t quite grasp yet. Why doesn’t blood, or other real things, like the black lamp in front of me, represent something else? Why am I not seeing death or depression? Is it because it is a lamp? My mind is one giant knot. Maybe i just need to know the difference between an adjective and a noun.

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