There is dark. And there is light. We are in the dark. We can see the light. We are not headed in that direction. We are going somewhere else. I tried the light with all its ‘lightness’. It didn’t work. Some of us are just dark. On the inside. I don’t mean to offend in those words. It’s a ridiculous analogy. As if dark is always bad. Its not. I think the dark is good. I did not enjoy the light.
Its full glow. I felt bare. Naked. Exposed. Here in the dark there is comfort. Like being wrapped in a blanket. I can do things. No one sees. No one needs to know. Do I do things? Perhaps? Maybe. But you can’t know because this is the darkness. You can hear in the dark. Noises. There are noises. It could be me. It could be someone else. The noise. It is acute. You can smell as well. You don’t notice it. Not like you should. But you can. In the darkness, there is noise and smell. And touch. Searing pain? Maybe.
But who is touching? Is that pain? You can’t see it. How do you know it hurts? Because you know pain. You’ve seen pain. But this is the darkness. You can’t see in the darkness. Do you know it hurts? Are you sure? What is the warmth that is covering your hand. Smell it. You know that smell. Is it pain though? You are stumbling. Are you sure it’s pain? In the darkness. You are reaching for the light. I told you, this is not the light. You are here with me in the darkness. I whisper words. You can hear in the darkness. ‘Yes, this is pain.’ I pull out the tiny blade. I walk away.