So day four of Inktober 2017, hmm. The official Inktober prompt for today is “Underwater,” and the official WordPress daily prompt is “deny.” Now when most people read the word underwater, the first thought that strikes their mind is most likely some kind of fish. Some illustrators might draw a mermaid. Now my thought process is way more complicated than that, way way more complicated. When I read the word underwater I think of suffocation. When I saw the word deny, there was only one thought that merged those two words.
Ladies and gentlemen, buckle your seat belts, here comes another rant of a madman. Oh, and before we start, if you came here just to see the sketch, scroll to the end of the post, you’ll find it there.
A simple thought. Simple theme yet complicated. Let’s talk about darkness, shall we? One word that signifies everything gloomy about this world. Suffering, depression, sadness, hatred, lust, weakness, disease. I can count many more but I guess you got my point. We all share the light. My darkness is my own. It’s intimate to me. My demons, they are mine. The point is what if my darkness heals me (I’m nocturnal so I might be a bit biased) and the light blinds me.
See, I realized something today, during a very important conversation with a very good friend of mine. I am tired of defending my love for darkness. My need for introspection. My unbelievable need to understand the cause behind negatives.
What if you deny someone their sense of identity, can you imagine the suffocation they’ll feel. In every breath, they’ll be living someone else’s lie. A hologram of an illusion. I know someone like that now. I am surprised they showed me their reality. It’s something I have always wondered about. Why do people trust me? Some have told me it’s because of my good sense of humour, some find my humour to be horrible. Some find me affable (Hello, my companion of insanity). But all agree on one point, I am a good listener.
So, few days back, I created a little tale with that very same friend, “Like sponge we soak up stories to soften.” I know it won’t win me the next Nobel Prize for literature but it definitely summed up my need to be a great listener. But the strangest part is, all the stories I know of, they all embrace darkness. Let me simplify. Every single one of them focuses on the hypocrisy of authority. I am not going to say parents. As parents, you do not get to say it’s about my reputation even if you, being my child, suffocate in every breath of your remaining life.
I resonate with scream because I have been screaming inside for as long as I can remember. I resonate with darkness because my heart is filled with that. You keep your light with you. I do not need your hypocrisy. I do not need your saviour.
There isn’t a point I want to make right now. I’m too angry to make reasonable arguments. Today I do not care whom I offend. So listen to me, if any one of you believes you have to right to dictate someone’s life, fuck you, you asshole.
Today the post is about the thought process behind two of my creations, one poem and another sketch.
A Piece of Me
A piece of me, lost within me,
A scream lost in agony,
Piece by piece, I withered away.
Lost myself within me,
I was the one who inflicted the pain.
It isn’t as if I enjoyed the agony,
It’s because that’s all I could feel.
Your light blinds me every day,
Your touch burns my soul,
Your gaze makes me abhor my own skin,
So I crawl, within me,
I lose myself, because in that despair
I have found a sense of me.
I’m the pain,
I’m the darkness,
Your light cannot help me.
Even the scintillating spark shivers
When it catches a whisper of my name.
Your light cannot
And will not
Swallow my agony.
I’m the pain.
I’m the darkness.
But in that darkness
Exists the lost pieces
The last pieces of what I was
What I am.
Whatever I’ll ever be.
Do you ask,
Could I escape?
Could I soar my wings again?
How will I when you burned those wings
And hid them in my darkness.
Now tell me
My inflictor of love,
A love of self-proclaimed healer
Is it pathetic if I run into that darkness
Again and again
Only to find the last
Of my burning wings.
My darkness saves me from
I wrote this while talking to her and no, I didn’t invaded anyone’s privacy. I specifically asked her permission to publish it.
And now for the sketch, I’ll leave the figuring out part to you, figure out the connection between “Underwater,” “Deny,” and “Broken Identity.”
Looking for other entries into Inktober? You can find them here:
Need more pen and ink sketches? Check out the gallery here.