the night's roar

The night was cold, and the windstorm was strong, coming from all angles as it surrounded me with its embrace. I could hear the drops of rain amidst the music roaring in my ears. The stillness of time and the silence of the night calmed me. The feel of the heavy rain shouted peace, and the tranquility of being in the province overpowered the rush I associate with city life. How much it reminded me of the simplicity of life and allowed me to toss away the toxicity of the world.

I have always loved my time in solitude. I would never miss an opportunity to be alone with my thoughts and the blackness of my mind. Many would say it was wrong for me to spend so much time on my own, but not everyone would understand my need for it. Oh, how it refreshes me to have my mind be free from any wall, open to exploring all possibilities, negative or positive they may be.

I have always pushed myself to see the good in things, even when my mind or circumstances were at their worst—finding light beyond the darkness, ready to push away negativity and seize the goodness in every situation. I knew I had always harbored hate in my heart, but I tried my best to distance myself from it and awaken the love within me: love for life, love despite grief and pain, and love for whatever or whoever was before me. Love has always been a sensitive topic for me; I guess it's because I'm such an empath. There are moments when just the presence of love overwhelms me, but I have never stopped myself from letting love flow out of me.

At this point in my life, I have decided to accept my dark truth and allow its escape—perhaps to exhaust it and start living in light when darkness runs out. I recently had a conversation with a friend about how I finally acknowledged the presence of darkness in my life, but also declared that, even though I have a dark mind, I would never allow it to take over, consume me, and turn me into the dark side.

I don't know if this makes sense to you, but it does to me—and that's what matters.