Darkness is a strange, beautiful disaster.See, there are many different types of darkness that make it beautiful, for not all darkness is the evil that it is stereotyped to be. The dim hours of the evening, where shadows fluctuate and breathe, really, and quite a beautiful thing. The lack of light ebbs and flows, so easily altered by ones own position in reality, creating a landscape of beautiful blacks and purples too indistinguishable from one another to ever be truly appreciated. Like a lost art they watch and wait for someone, somewhere, to truly know the glory of the shadows.
The darkness of the night, pierced only by pinpricks of stars is another bit of darkness to beautiful to imagine. Many people think the stars themselves are what is beautiful, that the light the stars give is what makes us stare in awe at the sky. But what would the stars be without the darkness surrounding them? The black of night holds up it's starry counterparts and supports them. For without the darkness in which the stars lie, how beautiful could they really be? The answer, simply, is that there would be no beauty in them, and that is part of what makes the darkness such a lovely thing. It isn't beautiful because of what it is, but because of what it does, and what could be more precious and worthy than that?
However, there is more to darkness than good. Darkness is such a complex thing, that trying to just call it beautiful or evil would take away from what it actually is.
Because, the sad truth of it is, that darkness in it's majority is not a beautiful thing. Darkness is not something to be praised or desired or loved. Darkness is the terror of a child in their bedroom as they scream for their parents to come save them from the monsters that stemmed of their own mind. Darkness is the lying, deceitful faces of those who only want to hurt and maim and destroy, of those who want to tear down someone else because they are so lonely themselves that they require a companion in their misery.
Darkness is the shadowy tendrils that creep through our souls as we lie awake at night, wondering what makes life worth living. It causes the tears that people cry when they look inside themselves and see that all they are is broken. It breaks and breaks and breaks us, tearing down the dams we built to keep our insanity from flooding who we are and what we make ourselves to be. It throws us into pits of guilt and sorrow that we have to desperately claw our way out of before we're swallowed by our own emotions and eaten alive. Darkness pulls us to our lowest, to the depths of the oceans, and attempts to keep us their, struggling for just one more breath of air before we drown.
But even that can't describe darkness properly. It's hard to describe anything when it isn't something that can be physically seen, in the same way that darkness isn't truly visible. All you can do to get an accurate deion of what is really there is to describe it's aftermath. And darkness is no exception. Because, if you take a step back from what it does to look at what that means, you'll see something unexpected and strange.
Because darkness, in an odd way, defines us just as much as our own personalities do. The moments where we our tested, where our limits are pushed and our hearts are breaking and our lives are shattering, those moments are when we prove, not to the world, but to ourselves who we really are. We show our endurance when we push through the pain, even though the pain threatens to break us. We become kind when even though our kindness wrenches our hearts and makes our lives miserable, we show it to others anyway. Not because we have to, but because that is just who we are. We become courageous when we see our brokenness, when we see ours own souls at the verge of collapse and we don't give up, because we refuse to let our darkness destroy us.
We become so much better when we overcome the things that hurt us. And that is who we are. Darkness defines us because all we are is all that we can conquer. Darkness is such a strange, beautiful thing because that is exactly what it turns us into.
(and now I'm done rambling, I'll go crawl back into my existential crisis hole. kthxbai)
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