There was always a fascination with darkness. With intensifying feelings from dusk till utter darkness. A thought crossed my mind today. A potential explanation for this fascination. Perhaps not every fascination can be explained, but probably most can be.
Darkness is when my inner world is most in touch with the external world.
At night there are nearly no intrusions to my thoughts. I am alone and invincible to the few souls that are awake as well. What I see, I don’t see clearly. There is no black and white, there is only something and that something is moldable. Mysterious thoughts overwhelm the daily responsibilities. Imagination takes over. Silhouettes instead of perfectly defined shapes. Without relative movement, time stands still and this state seems sheer endless. I feel completely calm.
I like the night. (then) It’s more than a period of time; it’s another place. It’s different from where we are during the day.
We’re different from who we are during the day. Little more hidden, little less seen.
When life is most like a dream.