Did you ever notice that when people refer to "the dark side
of the moon", the truth comes out - as it is, not pretty,
sometimes even ugly, but honest, simple truth? Some
individuals refer to the truth as "the light". So how come
it's on the dark side of the moon? Maybe, if there's too
much reflected light, it shines so bright that it blinds us
to the truth?
My truth is that in the bottom line, at the end of the day,
beyond all the defenses, behind the high walls and the
electric fences that I'd built to separate myself from the
outside world, I'm just a sarcastic, scared, lonely little
girl that desperately tries to figure out how to live in
this sarcastic, scary, lonely, big world.

Sometimes the walls around me rise so high, and I can't see
the moon, to see the reflected light of the sun at night and
then I'm trapped inside these walls only with myself and the
darkness. At these moments, forgotten shadows of memories
and phantom ghosts of repressed desires come alive - above,
under, around and inside me, to keep me company. If I
embrace them, accept them, they become tears; and then
words.

They're not ghosts anymore, they have a body and a soul and
a flavor which is always a part of myself, as all my words
are. Now others can read them, I can be judged by my words
and only pray to be understood, to be forgiven for the
sarcasm of my life. The darkness brings out the truth in me
and delivers it to the world.

Does it make me dark as well, or do I have another,
beautiful, bright side that shines over other people's
lonely nights once in a while, and brings them comfort and
guidance in the dark, just like the moon?


Lis