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In Doom Patrol's 4th season 11th episode there is a moment of Jane (one of the main characters) accepting the trauma she has endured. While I find the exact moment a bit forced, because it did not really have appropriate build-up, it is quite satisfying. What some may also find satisfying is the moment she completes a jigsaw puzzle, which was just a blank canvas of slightly beige color. Me? I was reminded of a long forgotten nightmare. I've seen a fair share of nightmares in my life, some quite vivid, which stay with me till this day, like the one where I am killed by dinosaurs, but the most scary for me was the one that had almost no details in.

It was a wide space, possibly limitless, since there were no visible walls. It is like those white rooms often shown in movies, when a person is dead or unconscious, but the color was beige. It was somewhat close to "cosmic latte", but maybe with slightly higher saturation. From the bottom at around one third of my view there was a small dot (or maybe a blob), which almost the same color, but a tad darker. The difference was so small, that you could barely see it.

Something about that dot and the way it was swaying in that space filled me with loneliness, although at that time I did not recognize the feeling. It was completely alone in this empty world, seemingly devoid of purpose. Just a spec of dust drifting in silence. I think there was also a sense of fear, but it was on the precipice of perception, barely there. This lonely dot already made my heart worry, even though there was no logical reason to, but that was only part of the dream.

Periodically some other blobs appeared. Amorphous, different tints of brown. They were of different sizes as well, but always much bigger than the dot. They rushed from one side of the space, raising dust around them. That dust shimmered bringing details to the scene and making it look like the dot is shaking even more, when brown blobs pass it. When they did, the ghost of fear became fully corporeal: clear fear of death under the "feet" of these blobs. That fear gnawed at me so strongly, that during these dreams I always felt my physical body, and I could handle only half a dozen of passes of the blobs before I woke up.

It was not just a fear of death. It was fear of death and being completely forgotten. Feeling of being useless, meaningless, nothing more than a background. The same fear, that years later stopped me during two suicide attempts. The same fear, that is still holding its ground in my mind. Not as strongly, as then, yes, since I do accept reality, where, most likely, I will be completely forgotten within months, at best, after eventuality of my death.

But I think there was something more to that dream, that plagued me for several months, at least. Considering the timing, considering the color of those blobs, perhaps it was also a reminder for me down the line, that being colorful does not really matter. The color fades, as any fad does. My actions, no matter how "vivid" they make me for a moment, will be forgotten, me myself would be forgotten even faster, but if I remain that grain of sand on the path of another, that helps them maintain balance for just a little while, or if I remain as a spec of dust that stops another for a moment to sneeze and look around them... Maybe that's not so bad.