How is it that you can feel a thousand things, but you can't show what you're feeling? How is it that you can think a thousand things, but they refuse to leave your head?
26 March 2012
05 March 2012
Chloe's Cogitations
I never understood why people didn't love the dark... Actually, I do understand, but I guess I view certain aspects of 'darkness' differently than most...
In books, people tend to treat anything dark as something to be feared or shunned. The bad guys in the stories I read when I was younger always wore black and ran around at night. They rode black horses, had black hearts, and lived in dark castles with black banners streaming from their towers. Even in real life people have given darkness a bad name--one of the parts I really do understand, since Satan himself is referred to as the Prince of Darkness. But I'm not talking about Satan or how we should love him or anything like that. Atall.
I promise.
What I'm trying to say, really, is that people don't seem to appreciated darkness very much, but it's so nice. I don't know many people, for example, who like walking down the street on a cold dark night right after it's rained. The nights when water drips eerily from the nearby trees onto the pavement as you walk past and the neighborhood lights reflect back up at you from the wet gutters. You know the nights I mean. Everything you see seems to come alive, ready and willing to attack you at a moments notice. Shadows that were complimented when framed by sunlight during the day are no longer smiled at. Instead, they become a hiding place for any and every enemy your imagination might cook up. But is that really how this night should look?
Let's reverse our positions for a minute, shall we? I'll sit in your head and you sit in mine. There. Fair trade... Kind of.
Suppose you're the one who's hiding in the shadows.
No longer are you the one being hunted; you're the hunter. Darkness cloaks your movements as you follow your enemies down the wet road in silence. All the shadows you like to think are teeming with baddies out to get you are now your greatest allies. They cover you and keep you safe. (And if you're smart, then yes, you'll be wearing as much black as you possible can. That's just how it works.) No longer do the streetlights look so formidable. Their light is now a way of keeping track of your enemy as he works his way down the block, never knowing they're being followed.
Okay. You can have your head back. I've made my point and, really, I prefer my mind anyways. Not to mention I'm sure the dustbunnies between my imagination and common sense are scaring you a little with their staring. They do that.
Next time you go out for a stroll on a cold night, though, you may want to remember what I've told you. Carefully consider my collection of copious... cogitations. They may just save you the next time you leave your house. And who knows, maybe you'll learn to appreciate darkness a bit more.
In books, people tend to treat anything dark as something to be feared or shunned. The bad guys in the stories I read when I was younger always wore black and ran around at night. They rode black horses, had black hearts, and lived in dark castles with black banners streaming from their towers. Even in real life people have given darkness a bad name--one of the parts I really do understand, since Satan himself is referred to as the Prince of Darkness. But I'm not talking about Satan or how we should love him or anything like that. Atall.
I promise.
What I'm trying to say, really, is that people don't seem to appreciated darkness very much, but it's so nice. I don't know many people, for example, who like walking down the street on a cold dark night right after it's rained. The nights when water drips eerily from the nearby trees onto the pavement as you walk past and the neighborhood lights reflect back up at you from the wet gutters. You know the nights I mean. Everything you see seems to come alive, ready and willing to attack you at a moments notice. Shadows that were complimented when framed by sunlight during the day are no longer smiled at. Instead, they become a hiding place for any and every enemy your imagination might cook up. But is that really how this night should look?
Let's reverse our positions for a minute, shall we? I'll sit in your head and you sit in mine. There. Fair trade... Kind of.
Suppose you're the one who's hiding in the shadows.
No longer are you the one being hunted; you're the hunter. Darkness cloaks your movements as you follow your enemies down the wet road in silence. All the shadows you like to think are teeming with baddies out to get you are now your greatest allies. They cover you and keep you safe. (And if you're smart, then yes, you'll be wearing as much black as you possible can. That's just how it works.) No longer do the streetlights look so formidable. Their light is now a way of keeping track of your enemy as he works his way down the block, never knowing they're being followed.
Okay. You can have your head back. I've made my point and, really, I prefer my mind anyways. Not to mention I'm sure the dustbunnies between my imagination and common sense are scaring you a little with their staring. They do that.
Next time you go out for a stroll on a cold night, though, you may want to remember what I've told you. Carefully consider my collection of copious... cogitations. They may just save you the next time you leave your house. And who knows, maybe you'll learn to appreciate darkness a bit more.
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