No Light

I look at the dim light shining through my window, my blinds shadow on the walls. All lights off in the night. I am not interested in what things look like clearly. How I adore darkness. I feel calm. I feel like nothing can hurt me. I hate when the lights are on, or if the blinds are open during the day. If I see objects, my anxiety rises. I wonder if I would be less anxious if I was blind, not wishing I was blind, but curious.

I remember taking walks at the Seaport at night. Walking along the East River, and speaking my thoughts aloud. I bet the few people there thought I was crazy, but if you too were walking along the water at 11:00pm, you also have a problem. The wind blowing my notebook pages as a frantically write down everything happening in my mind. There would be nights I would run out of ink and stop mid-sentence. Those nights were the worst. How I miss being able to walk along the water and write. I do not have that luxury here.

My mind works differently at night, making it the time I do most of my writing. It is when I write most of my rants of pure nonsense, or write the overwhelming emotions that my mind needs to vomit. I do not understand how people write during the day; my mind does not function that way. My mind is too anxious when the sun is out. Why? The light. Light shows me what is in front of me, and I do not give it the consent to do so. Why would I want to see things that make me weary? I have had friends ask me if I need the bathroom or kitchen light on, and I reply absolutely not. I do not want to see the things I do not have to see. I am not saying an oven or a toothbrush make me anxious, but they are insignificant object that I need to perceive. I would rather have light show me the thing I want to see, and there are not many.

There are very few things I want light to show me, literally and figuratively. Literally, I want it to show me the ones I care for. Figuratively, I want it to show me that humanity still has love in its core. That is the only darkness I hate. The lack of love humanity has. I know there are pockets of it within. Call me a pessimist, but I need light to show me if love still exists in this broken human world. In which, I do believe love is the only thing that exists in Heaven; yet, I do not believe love only exists in Heaven. We need to shed some light onto it to remind humanity it exists, if it still exists.

My pessimistic mind is only rambling, and nothing I write truly matters. What I just wrote might not even make sense.  It is but only a way to get my thoughts out of my head. I hate when they stay locked up because when a new thought comes in, everything is crammed. I honestly think that is what a migraine is, thoughts crammed in your brain.  You know what makes my migraines even worse?


When the light is on.


Comments