I believe our timidity of darkness was once bequeathed, passed on generation after generation after generation like nostalgia for the folk tales we rehearsed in front of our heirs on moonless nights till it became calcified deep down in our bones. It was often given the prospect of a monster that lived in our closets and under our beds, or wandered around in attics and basements when we were asleep, perceived as a excrescence that is as far on the opposite end of the definition of a man as possible. Each culture had its own envision of this mythology; the boogeyman, the gremlins, the ghouls, the basilisk, the headless horseman, and the list goes on. We have created the oddest anomaly; a melody out of tune, a petrifying titan to complete strangers by copying that singularity of blackness inside us. We just failed to see it. I am not afraid of darkness, the absence of light is what really gets me. I'm afraid I won't be able to have feelings ever again. I'm afraid I won't...
We are not superheroes with big red capes or vigilantes who fight crime at night. We are just personas with pens in their quivers and who are passionate enough to share the rowdy thoughts devouring their souls.