I was ran over by green

It was a green morning. The very first thing I can remember today is the green, the shelter, I was under beyond the green ocean and then I went away, I flew, no point in doing so but the random reason we fly: life.
And life has these funny things, as green turn gray as easily as it does, but green and gray are just colors and to fly is much larger than colors so, why stop flying?
So there I was, being me, flying in the gray bright earlyness of the day, and when it happens people often ask "where are you flying to?" (I had an ant who used to ask me that all the time), as if to fly could only be intransitive, not an action, not a dream and a way of life and the paradise and doom of a little existence, but by "little" I mean an existence smaller than gray; indubitably gray. Not a happy nor interesting nor smart nor sexy gray.
Now thinking of it, gray isn't that large, I'm talking about some existence, precisely that amount of "large-littleness", uncountable.
It was then that the green came, just like the gray but green, me, on the other hand, very different from the both of them. I got happy by the sight of the green, a glimpse of the color I was surrounded that very same earlyness, few days ago and I remembered how happy I was that earlyness (earlier than the one of the second green), someone was with me back there. Someone with a hard shell and an expression of a bad someone. But was it? Because sometimes we think things are what they just look they are and I think that is because the only thing we can say about things is what they look like, and this second existence looked like green but it mustn't be for it was very different from the other green and green must all be the same for its existence is ridiculously little for it to change, and that other green had sheltered me while this has shattered me.
I was ran over by green.

First I thought this was a fake-green or that it was holding me, but then it hurt, it did not stop, kept moving over me, trying to shatter my shell; so fool, naive.
For a second there I stood, I stood still anyway, or was it a day?For no longer than from a week to two years, that's for sure, I think...
But when that life ended and I flew away, because that's what we should do and I think the few who tryed not to do so were not happy but honest to themselves (and is that really desirable?).
Then it occurred to me that the fake-green was only doing that for it thought it was bigger and stronger than me. Who has told it that?
Did I?Or the same way I thought the hard-shelled-bad-faced previous lover was bad the same way the fake-green thought I was smaller and more fragile?
It doesn't matter now, I flew away and know better than to keep thinking of the fake-green, I've learned how to fly centuries ago, haven't I?
So I fly to gray and out of the blue (and the green) I was far away and it was still early that day, just a few years later.

Now, coming to think, that green must be real.