Who? What? Why? Who Cares?

I don't usually notice any colors in my dreams unless they mean something. Colors seem to be used to get my attention. I get that. But now I have had a second dream where a person had color.

In waking life, I'm not very good at noticing what people look like. Someone has to have something very different going on to get me to 'see' them. They have to have a wild shock of red hair, or be seven feet tall, or weigh four hundred pounds... you get the idea, right? I'm bad with faces. I'm better about it now than I used to be, though. I once witnessed a crime from a distance but could not even tell the cop whether the suspects were white, Asian, or Hispanic. I did remember dark hair, though. Tall, thin, young men with dark hair. I thought that was pretty good, actually. You see, I could only have told whether they were white or black. That's all. Anything more would rely on facial features and I just don't generally 'see' that, I guess. Not unless I am consciously telling myself that I must SEE and REMEMBER (short-term only) in order to DESCRIBE. I guess I was too stunned just then.

My husband picks on me about this because I say that 'everyone' looks like this one 'average looking' friend of his. What? That is how people look to me! Wanna hear how drastic it can be? A few times I did not even realize color. Color seems obvious, right? Black, white, or somewhere in-between would overly simplify it, but that is what it seems like to me, only... I see in-between a lot where other people might see black or white. I guess I'm just a disaster when it comes to remembering what someone's actual face looks like, so I must unconsciously rely on sizes and colors to the best of my limited ability in order to 'memorize' someone. Even in my dreams.

A while back I wrote about dreaming that my therapist was a black woman. I've dreamed him as a woman before, but until that dream, people just WERE. There were no colors to differentiate anyone. Now I have had another dream where I noticed that someone was black. It took me a while to notice, and I had to have a close up view of his hairline to do it. It was an old man in my dream and when I saw the white hair meet the black skin, I noticed the difference. He was black. Obviously, this has some kind of significance. I know what it is now. For those who don't know, I am very white. Think mayonnaise. Think spontaneous combustion when exposed to sunlight. Think Casper the Friendly Ghost. I have had MANY dreams where all the players were ME. Now I know that if someone is black in my dream, my unconscious is trying to tell me that that particular dream character is not a self-representation; not Casper-like. Make sense? Now, who was this man? I don't remember the dream very well (because I tried like hell to forget it), but unlike the other black dream character, this person was... he was a very bad man. He plotted against the rest in the dream and was trying to arrange for their demise. He wanted them to die. He was crafty and deceitful and was trying to trick them into having 'accidents'. He killed off the older lady in the dream. She was a little ditzy, but she was nice enough. She might have been a mother figure? Somehow, there was a 'do-over' and the woman was alive again and the rest of us (my husband and I) had to clue her in and we plotted to turn the tables on him, but I don't remember whether or not the plan came to fruition. Maybe it did. Don't really know. There were toys around the house in this dream, but no children. I think the evil old man had already done away with them. I think that because of the dream that came right before this one. My father was in it and was pretending to be a stand-up guy while he subtly accused me of the crime of hurting or killing a little girl. At first, though I could not remember committing any crime, I agreed that I must have done it, but then I was proven wrong. I had not done it after all.

I probably shouldn't be thinking about these things right now, because I need to go to bed, but I found myself so hesitant and I have been pacing around drinking Diet Pepsi again, so I figured it might be better to spill it. Who was the black man? Father? Therapist? Who? Was the older woman me? The therapist? I'm angry with him, you know? Back and forth. Angry, then empty. One day he exists and then for the next several days he doesn't. Sometimes I don't think I like him anymore and don't want to talk to him when he comes back from vacation.

Dream Mother? Interior Design Consultant? Nice man? Faker? Big jerk?

Maybe the voice of the teenage girl was right.

Creepy.

Little.

Troll?

Jesus... I'm going to bed.