Black is my favourite colour. It is a colour that no matter how you try to dye other colours over it, it will still remain black. It is not the colour of sin or of sadness, it is the colour of obstinate rebellion against the pressure of liberal society.
It is the colour of steadfastness.
I want to be black – steadfast and never changing – the one painting over others, not the one being painted over. But society doesn’t accept people dyed in black.
People come up to you with paint in a balloon. They smile at you and say hi. You smile back and you say hi. You enjoy a conversation with them. You want to be friends. They continue smiling and hand their balloon to you. Paint yourself with my colour so that I know you’re serious. Okay, you reply. You squeeze the paint over your own colour.
The two of you travel along together. Then a bicycle comes and knocks you over. You fall into the mud. The colour they painted you over with is now a different colour. They frown at you. They whisper about you. They talk about how concerned they are about you behind your back. They smile at you. Then they dye themselves over with someone else’s colour and now you’re not their friend anymore.
You never liked that colour anyway. So you find someone else you like talking to and dye yourself in their colour.
Be yourself, they say. But no one really knows what that actually means. When you write cards to people, you only list the things that they did for you. You don’t thank them for who they are, only what they did for you. That’s the true colour of the world.
Black is my favourite colour. It is the colour of nothing. The colour of death. The colour that cannot be dyed over. The colour that is permanent and never changing. The colour that is irreversible. Unless you meet someone who is white with the potency of bleach, you are invincible.
I am not black. I am an ugly muddy brown, the colour you get when you mix too many colours together. A colour that only gets uglier and uglier as other colours are thrown into the mix. What was my original colour?
It doesn’t really matter. I can’t remember it anyway.