Saturday, February 9, 2013

On light and night

Last night, just before I fell asleep this sentence came to me. I wonder what my nocturnal spirit flees from? Is it the light of the day? But I'm a creature of the light, I know it in my gut. If anything I love the light more than others. After all who can claim to love the light more than a moth whose worship is at its peak when the light is truly visible as the darkness frames and endangers the light and who else risks their delicate wings and their life for their desire. During the day, the light is just mundane and invisible; because it is everywhere it is ordinary. But the night alone shows us the light at its best, in its purest form. So it's not the light I avoid, but rather a specific kind of torture that most people I know seem to be perfectly fine with. It's the habits and obligations of the day that I run away from. I like the freedom of the night.

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