Blue, the colour of the sea, and of us sea sprites. No matter what, we are covered from head to toe with blue. Various shades, aquamarine, pale or bright, they are all still classified under the vague term – blue.

It really is sickening to see nothing but blue on our bodies. Our hair is blue, varying from the palest of blue to the darkest of blue. Pulsating a vibrant blue like the colour of the sea, is the colour of our skin, each sprite almost identical. Not to mention our eyes, midnight blue, cerulean blue, all the shades of blue you can think of. Damn, even our blood is blue. I am sick of blue.

How I envy those fishes, darting through the ocean like streaks from a rainbow. Even the dullest of them all is not a plain blue; grey, black all those would be a nice change from blue. When the fishes swim in schools, it is truly a sight to behold, the silvery colours flashing in and out. When we sea sprites swam in our horde, we just look like a wave, sparkling through the sea. After all, it is us who caused the sparkles in the sea, swimming with the waves.

The thing I hate most, are the mermaids. Probably because of jealousy, but I just can’t stand the sight of them. With flashy tails of any colour you can think of, they are the most flamboyant creatures of the ocean. Their hair stands out, in flaming, flashy colours, the total effect stunning everyone. Even when they use blue, it just enhances the effect. Blue with a whole lot of other colours, pink, purple, yellow, green, orange, black, grey, white, any colour you can imagine. It is beautiful. But for us, it’s just plain blue. Boring old blue.

The stories I hear about the people on shore with feet, the mental snapshots I take whenever we surf up the shore with the waves; and the descriptions the wind sprites offer us when we entangle with each other, dancing around the world. The image I create in my head about the two legged people makes me hate them as much as I hate the mermaids. They live their lives gaily, laughing, dancing, and working, amidst a plethora of colours. Their lives are so full, of colour and of purpose. Unlike us sea sprites, dull blue, dull lives.

If I could wish myself into another life, it would definitely be one of those two legged creatures on land, their life full of colour, eventful. Not to mention what a great change from the sea that would be, dry, it would be fascinating.

The only time I ever get to see myself with another colour other than blue is when rubbish is on my body. Rather contrary from being happy, I’m appalled when that happens. It is disgusting beyond comprehension to have someone’s thrash on you, slimy and filthy. Perhaps that may be a reason why I want to become one of those two legged creatures, instead of getting thrash thrown at you, I’ll be the one to throw my filth out.

Everything is in perspective; to me, blue represents my life, our lives, the sea sprites lives. After all, we’re practically made up of blue, and we live in the blue world, the sea. I hate blue, I hate my life. It’s dull. We do the same things everyday. Working together with the sea, dashing up shores and pass lands, in the beginning it was lovely, sweet, gracing across the oceans and skidding lightly in the sun everyday. But as a sprite, one has everlasting life, doing this for a couple of hundred years has ruined the initial eagerness. My first love for blue had waned, changing my view in life. On the other hand, the life span of the strange creatures of the land was short, a mere seventy over years. They could do many different things throughout this span of time. The excitement of it was unnerving.

A very long time ago, when I was a new sprite, I loved blue. The sight of the colour was refreshing, and I marveled at the various different shades of blue. I swam, I dived, I frolicked with the other sprites, fusing with the waves and blending with the ocean. I thought I would never grow tired of that lifestyle. Unfortunately, blue eventually became mundane, an endless ritual I had to go through. I was tired. I wanted new colours, new events, a new life. Too bad life can’t change as and when we please, I am stuck with this bleakness and all I can do is watch and wish.

Waves of nostalgia will sweep over me when I see the newer, younger sprites cheerfully gliding across the ocean, loving the blue, loving the life. Yet, detest fills me as well. I can’t help but to loath those who love blue so much, those who love this monotonous lifestyle. Even to the extent of hating my old self, the naïve foolish me who adored this unsightly colour, the unsightly lifestyle of blue.

How and since when life and blue molded itself together I don’t know, but my life is basically made out of blue, and it’s plain. I need something to spice up life, an exhilarating event. Sadly, dreaming is all I can do, for there is nothing we sprites can do to break free from our current existence into a new one, nothing we can do to change our fate. The blue remains, calm and settled, still and unmoving, as it will forever.

Hundreds of years have and will pass, yet the blue is at a standstill in time, remaining the same for eternity. Even if I willed it, nothing would happen, it is necessary for us sea sprites to live this life, to retain the blue. To keep the ocean waves ebbing steadily. As much as my will rebels, I can do nothing physically. To flow with the tide is the fate of a sea sprite, unchanging like the blue in our lives. It is in the earth’s nature that we keep the sea moving, sustaining life.

To be blue is our destiny, struggling against it is useless. If ever there is a chance to break free from it, I wouldn’t mind. Who knows, maybe one day there will be a miracle. After all, I do have an eternity to wait, either that or I’ll perish, when one day I finally find myself at the brink of frustration towards this eventless life and hurl myself onto the relentless rocks.

Many of my kind have accepted fate as it is, others are still deliriously in love with blue. These people I detest. Everyday I stare at myself, blue from head to toe, the perfect picture of the very life I hate, the life filled with blue. How I abhor the colour, no matter the shade, it causes me anguish. Suffering in a life I do not want. Everyday, soaring with the blue, blue oceans, I see familiar views. Looking up, I see the unending blue sky. Does blue cover most of the world? How I longed to see new sights, something that was not filled with blue, not shrouded by the presence of blue.

Blue is our only colour, and it would always be so.