No, actually, Wednesday isn’t indigo blue, it’s about fifty degrees below my line of sight and ten degrees to the right. It’s just tilted enough to be annoying.
Synesthesia [[ or [[ ideasthesia ]], if you really want to get technical ]], is a really cool but really weird thing.
Most people, if they recognize the word at all, think of seeing letters and numbers as certain colors, or of seeing colors in relation to music.
In reality, there are tons of types of synesthesia. Grapheme [[ letter or number ]] to color, grapheme to sound, grapheme to feeling, feeling to color, feeling to temperature, temperature to color, color to sound…
There are also those that don’t really correlate to senses. These include ideasthesias, like associations of space, time, or shapes.
I experience a correlation between times or numbers and spaces as ideasthesias. Also, I correlate words and textures just a little, and have the barest thread of correlation between numbers and texture, personality, and color. All of these were stronger when I was younger.
I think I realized that my perceptions were different around two years ago when I tried to explain mental arithmetic to a teacher. She didn’t understand what I meant. I think that my way of doing math is probably really odd, because when I see the number 75, I also see 5 and 15 at the same time; usually, I see a pair of factors.
Subtracting is also weird, because if I do 75 - 26, 75 is upwards and to the right a little, and 26 is just about in front of me, but to the right a little. And because the numbers don’t easily subtract, I section it into three “strips” of a line pointed upwards and to the right, composed of 5 [[ 75 - 70 ]], 40 [[ 70 - 30 ]], and 4 [[ 30 - 26 ]], for a final answer of 49. Immediately afterwards, I note that 49 = 72.
30 000 BCE is almost horizontal, and sort of tan in color. Towards 1000, I abruptly gain perspective from historical events and cultures, and the time loses color. it continues at a relatively horizontal slope until 1 000 BCE, when things really pick up. At that point, there’s a nearly right angle, and then time starts to curve up and slightly to the left. The 1500s are light green glass, the 1600s are parchment, the 1700s are dark grey, the 1800s are camo, the 1900s are crowded and loud, and the 2000s are chrome.
Zero is tricky and conelike; sometimes spiky, sometimes smooth. One is sort of bland. Two is… two. I don’t know how to describe it. Three is soft, like cat fur. Four is… like two, but spiky.
The weekdays curve in a little arc beneath me. I’m above Friday right now, because it’s Friday. Saturday is in front and to the right of me; it’s slightly raised, and so is Sunday. Monday fades unless I pay attention to it, as do the days earlier in the week.
Going through a day constantly thinking about the time is a little like sliding slowly down a kiddy slide. In the morning, I’m above a convex scroll thing; as the hours roll by, I go down or it goes up. I think of ‘later’ as below.
College is just to my upper right, or so I hope. A mid-life crisis lies farther up the ribbon, and death is a pinprick in the corner, arbitrarily far away.
"Death" is concave and grey. "Book" is small and compact. "Music" is warm, pastel-like, and squiggly.
I feel that I should emphasize at this point that I don’t actually feel a cone when I think about the number 0. It’s the mental impression that I associate with zero, and have for as long as I can remember.
It’s not really that cool to have synesthesia. I do experience things that other people don’t, and I’m pretty sure that I do math and learn languages consistently faster than my peers, but do worse on social studies and interpretive English, as a result of this whole package.
…but it makes for interesting experiences when I have to use ether for an extraction.