The darkness of art

Waking up again. My body is hurting. Once again, the night went like a dream. I get those time once in a while and every morning I need to clean it. My hands are cover, evidence of my act from last night. Even my clothes will need to get thrown away this time. I cannot complain, it feel so good and it get me thru my downs. It is my little dark secret, my shame. Somebody like me should not do something like this, anyway that is what my parents told me. Looking around, I can understand, my place is always a mess after, hell, I am always a mess after. My brain still seems to be in the spirit of the evenings. Frenzy and hectic, but oh so good. I can see my smile in the mirror, on my way to the shower, big and almost scary. While stripping down, I can see the damage from last night, and once again, I only feel goodness and pleasure about it. I need the hot water to clean my hands, because they were the easy evidence about last night, and I could see it dropping and going down the drain. Step one done, I mentally told myself. Now, I would need to clean the place, before my family come over later. Looking around, while the water drip from my hair, and I feel my happiness starting to go down a little. But last night memories raised from the back of my mind, bringing my smile back. It took so long, but I finally found myself with at the last step. Looking at last night result. At this point, my spirit was high up and boiling. I wanted more, I wanted to keep doing it. Such a nice and warm feeling, when I am doing it. I love the smell, while I am deep into it, it even helps me to go further and deeper. So deep, and I can lose myself, my mind and all into it. The feeling is ecstatic, light and pure. If only I could have it every day. I feel like I should live from this, that this is so pure and so powerful. And just like that, I hear footsteps and remember about the family gathering. As the door slowly open, I shoot to wait, because I wasn’t wearing enough. I honestly were lying, but I needed some more time. I needed to hide my trophy from last night. Moving quick, I grab it, and shove it in a drawer. My tools on the other hand, I had to think a little more. A lot harder to hide it, but after a while, I found the perfect spot, under the bed. Right at that moment, I heard the door open, and my little sister ran toward my direction. My heart was pounding, but my brain was glad, because I knew I will be able to do it again and again. Those moments were the best, making my life full of colors and tastes, like nothing before. I can barely remember the time before. Now, the past feel that it was simply grey and boringness. And one day, it simply happens. One action led to the other and I rediscover the world, and this new one was full of possibilities. I could feel my brain wanting more, trying to tell me to do more of it, to use the flame and let it shine. And fast like that, it hit me, the reality. Harsh and dry and grey reality. My little sister asking me a question for the third time and getting impatient with me. I turned toward her and act like I was simply ignoring her for my own amusement. It did not take long before she ran back at our mom, complaining about my distant attitude. She always does, she was the one that could explore, do things, experiment and be wild. I was the one that had to be normal, straight and following the flock. If only they knew. If only they could see what I really was into. If they could see the colors and what doing it brings. If they could feel how strong and powerful it made me. If they could see what I call my shame trophies. Yes, I call them shame trophies, because someone with my uprising should not get theirs hands dirty, should stick with numbers and formality. The calling was way to strong, the temptation so easy. I remember reading about it somewhere, saying that once you get a taste for it, it become something like a drug and you end up craving more and more, never enough. I can assure you, it’s true. And once again, reality struck me, with my mother hand on my shoulder. I am guessing she too was trying to get my attention. I told myself I had to get my head straight, get my taught back into this grey reality. It was so hard, but I needed to keep this, my secret. So, I did what someone would and start apologizing to my mother. I knew it work when she smiles and ask me if I felt good or not. And easy like that, I got my way out. Told her I felt sick and should stay home alone. She agreed that I felt hot and drag my little sister out, closing the door behind them. I can’t tell how this made me feel, but I grab my tools right out and staired happily at them, knowing perfectly that I was ready for it. My body was ready for more and my mind was craving it. So I took one of the tool in my good hand and it felt so great and at it’s place.  My brain was getting so much active, thinking about all it can now do and let itself free of all chains. And easy like that, I got myself lost into it again, leaving the grey reality once more, but for a better place, one that I can be myself and let it shine.

Y. S. Nachtmahr