Isn't it odd how people try to fit a certain colour with one particular emotion? They try to tell you this means that, or that means this. They narrow everything down to one meaning and expect it to be the same for everyone, but what they don't seem to understand that what it means to you might be the opposite for someone else.
Like how for some the colour of the sky means freedom to spread your wings and fly away, but for him it's the colour of guilt at his uncle's wrecked convertible with their liquor soaking through the floorboards. They tell you that the colour yellow means happiness, but for some its the colour of grief and the hospital room where their mother lost her fight with cancer. And red is supposed to mean anger but for some it is colour of happiness and her mother's lipstick as she smiles at her son who's returned home from the army. Some say green is envy, but to some it is the colour of the grass and the feeling of contentment the day her boyfriend finally proposed to her. Black is meant to be fear, but to him it is the colour of peace that he finds in the night sky. Pink is supposed to be the colour of love but for some it is the colour of heaven on earth as they hold their blanket wrapped baby girl for the first time.
Everyone sees the world through different eyes, and so colours mean something different to every person. We are each so unique, so different, and one meaning could never cover all world.
