Sometimes, when I'm all alone and it's night outside and the darkness is spilling everywhere, I can feel a stillness in the world. As I sit there and listen to that stillness I feel empty and alone and, sometimes, even a little bit of unrest. It's like - have you ever been outside on a cold, winter night when it's pitch black in the sky and the wind is cold enough to freeze your nose hairs and something in the air mutes the ambient sound and it just feels like your the only person in the world?
I feel like that all the time. That emptiness. That stillness inside. No emotions, no feelings, just nothing. But at times, when I'm listening close, the pitch of that stillness changes. It becomes like, like a rolling blackness that's blacker than the darkest night. I know it doesn't make any sense, but it's like the silence itself becomes deafening and you can almost hear noises and words. A voice. That stillness within the roar of noise within the silence of the void comes around me and consumes me and with it comes an awareness. A feeling of power and control and hunger and rage all rolled into one. And it feeds off each other.
The rage feeds the hunger and the hunger feeds the rage which feeds the power and with it comes both a feeling of loss of control and great amounts of control and power that can consume the world. I know it's confusing as hell when I try to explain it, but in the midst of the maelstrom and the stillness, it's all one. It all becomes a part of me and already is a part of me and all feeds on itself. And it has a call-sign to it. A feeling. A hunger.
No comments:
Post a Comment