Illumine

[inspiration] — you never know how dark it is without the light; you never know how light it is without the darkness. both coexist, but the light can never be overcome by the darkness—only, that is, if you allow it. only, that is, if you are unaware that light is not the absence of darkness, but darkness the absence of light.

i was surrounded by a lot of dark people and dark things for a long time, so much so that i couldn't see my own light—but they surely could. in fact, that was their greatest weapon: their awareness of it, and my oblivion to it. i tried to blend in. but as i said, the light cannot be overcome by the darkness. whether i knew i had it or not, it was there. and they hated it! the sun doesn't disappear when it goes down; it's simply out of view for some time. the sun isn't gone when it's covered by the clouds; the wind must push the clouds away for its rays to burst out once more.

attempt after attempt after attempt was made to snuff my flame out, but guess what? i'm still shining. i emerged from the darkness and illuminated on my own. the dark became small. those people and those things became small. i overcame them. even in the most of darkness, the tiniest flickers brighten the way, burning brightly on. as do i.