#LoveAndDarkness / @TrevorNWhite
Darkness is uncertainty. Darkness is the fractured, the vague.
Darkness is ignorance, the feeling above all others that nothing can be soothingly said that will not let a hard, misshapen shard of worry remain jammed between your thoughts. It is shadows and cowardice, a crumpled note upon a table that reads “I don’t know what you want, but I wish you’d let me find it.”
Darkness is from the eyes, and from the stomach, and from the strands of half-explanations prying back our gray matter that we gesture at to say why we’ll pass a homeless man without a glance, why we’ll vote for a face and not a cause, why we’ll draw a gun to shoot and wait for a reason later. It is suspicion, hoarding, distrust both hidden and glaring, and all those other acts we say never make the world go ’round, but practice every chance we get to save something, we know not what.
Darkness is doing what you might have heard was wrong, or right, but being left alone too long to know the difference.
Darkness is painted black, poison-filled, unspoken, unseen, and sharp to the touch—before dissolving into nothingness.
Darkness is blood and fear, it’s what may have been and what could be, it’s saving face with a drunken celebration you forget who started.
Darkness is everything we wish was or wasn’t, and it is deadly blind.
But only if you let it be.
Learn more about Love&Darkness: Vol. I
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