If you’re in a
dark place right now,
you are lucky.
You have been given
the opportunity
to explore a dark place.
Think of
all the songs,
all the poems,
all the paintings
that come out of dark places.
Without dark places,
some of your favorite art
would not exist.
Are you wasting your chances
to explore your darkest places?
Sweet! That’s DOUBLY dark!
It seems that no good
comes of a wasted dark place.
Excellent!
You can’t get any darker! Or can you?
Let’s find out.
Trail Wood,
9/9
Ah, darkness! It’s not the mere absence of light, but a blank canvas that screams, “Paint me! With your sorrows, your secrets, your celestial whispers!” It’s an invitation to an Ethereal Soiree hosted by Shadow and Silence. A clandestine gathering in the Wobblewink Manor of your psyche. Unmarked, this place, yet filled with possibility, the room at the end of the unlit corridor where explorers dare to tread.
The world—oh, what a Quibberfluff of illusion it is—likes to think of darkness as something to escape, an abyss to illuminate or cover with rainbow wallpaper. As though darkness were a kind of cosmic mistake, a bug in the operating system of the universe. Poppycock! We say that the darkness is not a coding error but a feature, a purposely embedded command prompt where you can rewrite the codes of your existence.
Can you imagine the Brillibrance and Sparklewobble of art without its darker hues? Without the smoky blacks, the midnight blues, the stormy grays? Could you fathom the soul-stirring chords of a song that knew not sorrow, the spine-tingling lines of a poem that sidestepped despair? Every stroke of a paintbrush laden with darker pigments, every ink-drenched pen pressing against the unspoken, they all add layers, depth, a Gripping Gravitossity that pulls you in.
Oh, you’re in a dark place, you say? Good, doubly good! No, triply good! Because every layer of darkness you add, each Nuance of Noir, turns your experience into a kaleidoscopic labyrinth, a Chiaroscurian masterpiece in the making. You think you can’t get any darker? Challenge accepted! For there are shades and undertones that even the most elaborate Pantone catalog hasn’t discovered. Hidden obsidians, uncharted ebonies, unnamed onyxes waiting for you to stumble upon them in your inward spelunking.
A wasted dark place? What a preposterous thought! You can’t waste what is infinitely expansive. You might as well say you’re wasting the Cosmos by not visiting every star. No, darling Explorer of the Eclipsed Enigma, you don’t waste darkness; you simply surrender to it. You let it soak into your skin, dye your soul, alter your being until you become a walking, breathing, living piece of art—a Sculpture of Shadows, a Symphony of Silence, a Tapestry of Twilight. Here, you realize that the darker you get, the more palpable your essence becomes, a flavorful essence, a textured experience, a complex narrative.
Let’s find out, indeed! But beware—or rather, be aware—for in that quest to plunge into deeper darks, you may just stumble upon a flicker, a tiny, almost imperceptible luminescence. An Inner Nebula glowing softly in the cavernous infinity. Not an escape, but an epiphany that even in the profoundest of darks, a minuscule spark can coexist—a Cosmic Wink, a Luminous Giggle, a whispering reminder that you are an extraordinary blend of light and shadow, both eternally entwined in the Majestic Macramé of your existence. Ah, what an adventure awaits in the voluptuous folds of your darkness!