Minds

When he closes his eyes, things go gray. He can see the color drain out of the surroundings as life itself seems to flow out from the world around him. Its a dead world, a world where there is no color, q world where there is no extremity, a world where moderation reigns supreme and one is bereft of extreme love or extreme hate. If fact he tries to see if he can feel and he fails. He tries again to bring those emotions, that feeling of extreme uncontrollable joy he feels sometimes. But it is like trying to catch a wisp of smoke, a gossamer thread that exist only in his mind. His hands too seem to extend out to thin air, perhaps in compensation to what his mind is incapable of doing and even they grasp into the thin air. Perhaps that gossamer thread is there, too soft even to be felt, too soft to be caught, perhaps it passes through his hand, his rough, callused and ugly hand. Perhaps.
But he feels nothing, its like a vast emptiness surrounds him, there are objects around him, yes they exist but they are colorless, they are bereft of the thing that makes them become what they are, they are merely objects that exist now. An existence perhaps as worthless as he wonders the existence of this drab dead gray world.
He stops trying to catch the thread. He stops to think, he lets the silence seep into him as his mind calms down. But this calming is strange, he knows. It is unnatural because this is not calm that brings peace, it is the calm that seeps out energy, there are no peaceful sea-shores with sunny palm trees. It is as if the grayness of the surrounding is seeping into his own mind and trying to, ... trying to bring ... bring him into this world of gray.
He lets the grayness come but he knows he will stop it soon, because he knows that he is afraid of the grayness. He fears it as some sort of death, his own personal dominion of changeless and hence dead existence. And he does not want to die, not yet.
He feels his uncertainty and fear mounting as he can almost see his mind falling like flower of dominoes with the collapse moving radially inwards. As each of his blood red dominoes turn gray and as the circle of collapse draws near he can feel his fearing rising, his nervous impulses firing crazily as some trapped animal in corner crying out ...
Suddenly he jerks his eyes open, for a moment, just for moment the grayness is there even in the real world but the color flows back instantly seeping through existence as he thrown into the world again.

He looks around, there people sitting on desks around him working away. He wonders if they noticed him. He also wonders what they see when they close their eyes.

This is my way of visualizing alternate minds. Words often fall short to describe the things I want to tell but there are time I feel that even my mind falls short to describe the things that existence in the imagination. But perhaps there are words that I don't know that would describe the things that are there in my imagination.