Black

I started worrying today about the color black. It all started when I had a random thought something along the lines of "A woman comes up to you all nervous looking and asks "why do you wea the color of death?"

As usual, I dismissed it, as most random thoughts are just that, random.

But later I started wondering if the world would somehow be better/brighter if maybe people didn't wear so much black. Yeah, it is a color that doesn't nesseccarilly look BAD on people, but it doesn't really do much for anyone either.

Then I started wondering why black was the color of death, because really nobody turns black unless I guess burned people, but ash gets eaten up in the general dirt and whatnot of the world. So wouldn't it make more sense if the color of death was brown? Or grey I guess?

But brown represents the Earth and goodness and life and creation, but life wouldn't exist without death, it's that whole dialectic thought thing from Dillon's class coming back to haunt me.

Brown should be life AND death. Like a cycle. Like how everything is. Or how I think everything is. But it isn't.

And I'm starting to think black might not be a color at all, like...NOT a color. The color of darkness represented by a physical "-ness" so that our sorry little percentage-of-working-brain-matter can handle the idea and think about it with the greater implications of omnipresent nonexistence.

I believe I may not be making sense. Ah well. Black, color or not, real or not, seems to be bothering me.