Writers Journal 1/14

For some, the night can never be dark enough.
Past sins and good deeds alike are evenly ironed over with the deepest part of the shadow and there is no need in the dark to find whats hiding, no need to recreate it in a more presentable way, no worries of compromising the integrity of the dark nor having to successfully scratch through the lit surface to the depth behind it. One can just sit there, breathing in the strong feeling that the blankets of blackness invokes, letting oneself be soothed by the feeling of being enveloped in darkness's solace--that place where peace, tranquility, and evenness meet, the place where there is no like or dislike just pure quiet energy that burbles under calm surfaces ready to change whatever it touches. It can serve as a hiding spot, the place where no one can see tears that fall or hearts that bleed, but it also can be a sanctuary for one to eliminate the distractions of the world of beings and allow focus to be brought on being, both submission to divine being (note, not 'a divine being'), the suffering of other beings, and the ability for one being to learn to just be, to enjoy all the world has to offer without despairing over or neglecting the first two concerns.
The night's blank slate and dark absolution from judgment offers creativity opportunity to flourish unhinged, for fiction authors and poets to either depart from, enhance, and/or change the perception of physical truths in this world so they appear in ways that are extra fraught with double meanings, egotistical claims at acquired knowledge diminished by a less narcissistic attempt to subtly hint at that which cannot completely be recreated or replaced by the words people attempt to pin onto them but can at best be shown through creative, figurative, metaphors and less agressive/obtrusive (or sometimes more...) rhymes and statements.