Shadows are dark with no definite shape of their own making. They twist and turn into shapes of any possible contortions at the whims and fancies of their castors. Sometimes they are long and trailing but at other occasions, they become short and stumpy. But are they really at the mercy of their castors? Or is it simply a case of an inevitable consequence?
Without light, there can be no differentiation of darkness from light. Can it then be said that light that results in shadows when directed upon an object, should take the blame? When intense and harsh, the shadow appears solid and unwavering. In the face of multiple light sources, the shadow becomes wispy and diffused. It is almost as if it was ethereal.
When we are gleeful and danced around with delight, the shadow follows suit with equally matched energy. And when we are down, the shadow becomes downcast and subdued. Should we call it our dark side literally or our hidden alter ego? Faceless and featureless except for the solid and sometimes, wispy and dark outlines. Aren't it an apt embodiment of the kind of appreciation that we sometimes wish others to have for us? To give no hoots about how we look but to treat us the way we are as a whole.
In our increasingly dysfunctional world with its fair share of dysfunctional people, are we gradually behaving like shadows do? Melt away into wispy entities when subject to harsh scrutiny of the outside world and only recover when we successfully cocoon ourselves from the absurdness of this realm we so dearly term as the World
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