the paper plane
paper plane paper plane paper plane

i s s u e 1
august 14, 2023
c r e a t e d b y
yohana kim
gabriella warkentin & lena tresser
to love color, to love the fact that your eye scoops up five shades of pigment for a single petal pixelating the contours of a stick of butter until it becomes more than real and your head sits with the satisfaction that you have gone beyond human saturation with the wonders of your instinct
Celebrate the competent manner with which you navigate your thoughts and see the stepping stones around the slimy bends of nuance that the average person cannot identify making sense of gray because to you it can be broken into ten shades of black and white and emotions are colors you keep muted in the clouds so thin they don’t cover the sun and block your visual perception
but your green grass can’t fight the yellow unless the clouds finally band together in precipitous dance darkening the sky to cry with tears that are screaming look at me and don’t forget your heart has ten senses and twice the dexterity of your mind with fingers you keep numbed so they won’t register the thorns that grow around underground to tear your soft skin and shatter your armor of glass lenses prismed for your protection then you hate color you despise the shades that are now unidentifiable burning your previous color wheel of reference into crumpled ash throwing gray upon your eyes in such a shade That you cannot pick out the black and white and the sky won’t stop crying and you don’t know what it is to be dry
each step is so shaky your flesh doesn’t recognize itself anymore holding in its skin the frame of a disoriented wanderer who must pick themselves up again and start at square one to relearn the colors of the real world

u n t i t l e d gabriella warkentin, 17 >
c o l o r b l i n d











