I’m getting disturbingly affectionate with the dark, lately. In a way that makes an alarm go off in my brain every time I take a step towards the black hole of nothingness, through the shadows of the damned, holding hands with everything that’s bound to destroy what’s left of my soul. But to be honest, something about the malicious still ceases to fascinate me, filling me with the right amount of shady excitement and making me crave for more, every second through the journey. As much as I acknowledge the wrong in the sin and the consequences awaiting the sinner, the thought of it fills me up with this unexplainable warmth that I so vulnerably long for.
Before giving me that look, the look of despise and contempt, of utter judgement, ask yourself, for isn’t this something we have all encountered? Something that keeps us sane, giving us strength to hold on, amidst everything wrong in the lives of yours and mine. Isn’t it the bad in our thoughts that let us mouth the pretentious good in the face of society? For we know only of right as what isn’t wrong.
Afterall, aren’t we all just the children of an Eve who chose to be remorselessly nefarious.