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Something Less Sensory

I can't say I've always felt this darkness. There was a time when I loved and lived amongst the light as most do. I was as content as any man was. But the light of your world blinded me, as it does you. I couldn't stay in it though, as you do. I had to return to my darkness.
Yes, I say return because I wasn't always in your world. I was born in a separate reality, away from the light. It fed me, comforted me, fortified me against your light. It was lonely though, compassionless, cold. And thus I turned to day.
At first, I was lost, of course, confused, and a little bewildered. But light people found me intriguing, different, and thereby interesting. I gained confidence, comfort, and shed the darkness completely. I let my defense fall about me like old fur. I brushed away my coat and lived in the warmth of the light. And for a time, I was happy.
The darkness beckoned, but I refused to respond. I pushed the darkness away, and stood in the light, beaming with my own naked brightness. And I loved. Over and over I loved, not in the physical sense so much as the spiritual. I was taken in, and made warm by many, and in response, was loved. Or so I thought.
The novelty of my newness wore off. My insight into the nature of your light, and the wonder I felt for it became irksome. Light people no longer found my wisdom interesting. Slowly the light became cold, but no less bright, and I, standing naked in it, froze. I wanted to know about the lightness I was feeling, and people no longer wanted to teach me.
My confusion turned inward, and collected. I was dizzy from the mass of light that swirled around me, and I no longer had light people to explain it away. Still the darkness called and I would not respond. I was determined to stay in the light, become one of the light people. But I didn't have the warmth that light people are born with. And without it, I was lost in your world.
I searched for the warmth I had felt previously, draining it from the light people like a leech. Some were horrified, unaware of the coldness I felt. Some were surprised, others tried to apply their method of self warmth to me. But I could not generate my own light, and was no longer a product of darkness. I was caged by the light I could no longer live without. The darkness still called, but like a child too long away from its home, I forgot its language.
The darkness could no longer be understood. I interpreted it wrong, and confused its warmth, its embrace, its safety with anger, rage, all the negative aspects of the light. It became too hideous to embrace.
I don't recall how long I stood staring at your light, blinded by its radiance, searching for its warmth. I don't remember how long I felt the coldness of your light world. But could not stay. I knew that my dark, unintruded world had to be found.
I turned away from the light. And as one who stares into the light to long, I fumble in my darkness. I was angry that my home was so alien to me. I could not find the key to the dark world, and was as confused as ever I was in the light. My dark intelligence was lost to me.
I sought knowledge of the darkness from those who I had implored for warmth. But they never felt the darkness, were never loved by the absence of light. They could not understand the beauty, the protectiveness, the warmth of the dark; there was comfort, a softness that wraps one in safety. They said it was irrational. I was told that one cannot hide in the darkness, one cannot fear the light. Face the light, they told me, be brave and hold the light.
Ah, but how could they know what the darkness was. It is not fear; it is not hiding or running away. The darkness was not a mother, a protector, a place to be fortified in. I realized it was a lover, a partner. It did not hold me to shield me from the harms of the light. Rather it showed me the light from the outside, gave me strength that the light could not. It offered a wisdom that cannot be learned first hand, but must instead be observed, taken inform a distance.
One cannot stand with a nose against a picture and understand the complexity of the work. To focus on a single pixel to discover meaning is impossible. And this the darkness taught.
The darkness gave me a wisdom light people could not understand. Most would not understand it as a principle of choice. They stare into my dark world and fear what may jump out at them. There are no demons here, no ghosts, no secret evils waiting to devour them. Darkness does not absorb light. Light pushes back the darkness.
My eyes adjusted to the darkness slowly, and I was welcomed. The warmth I had sought in the light was here. I could feel my fear, my confusion, my anger fade, as if melting back into the light. I was at home in the darkness. And again I could laugh.
From my darkness I watch the light people move, and in their folly try to escape the coldness of the light. I watch them cling to one another and still try to leave distance enough for more warmth to enter. I laugh at the comedy of the light as it promises warmth and returns none. I watch in pity as light people turn to the light, offering everything, pleading, imploring, begging for the comfort I have. But they are born for the light, as I am the darkness, know the twists, the curves, the sudden stops.
Why am I so dark? I have tasted your warmth and find it bitter. The dark holds a sweetness the light can never own. But the light, it has a companionship the darkness cannot offer. Still, the light taught me the favours of darkness. I could not comprehend the nature of darkness until I was exposed to your light. I could not learn the lessons of warmth without light's coldness, and could not understand that coldness without the dark.
I tell you this in hopes that some wisdom, some insight may be gained for your world. My purpose is not to turn you, to tempt you from the light, rather in hopes that you will understand the complexity of the two. Darkness gives light to the light the light, and light darkness to darkness. Neither could be understood without the other, although they do exist separately. Darkness without light is still darkness, but it tastes less sweet.

posted by September @ 9:12 AM