Catharsis

There is no catharsis inside the deep layers of light. 

This is true, primarily because of the fact that you can see and therefore you can shift the focus of your mind onto other things. Other less amusing things you choose for the sole purpose of avoiding what you fear.

You draw a picture with some ink and fill it with a spectrum of colors. You play your fingers inside some paint and splash them on the canvas, claiming it as a job well done.

You think and strike and erase and crumple and give up. You drink some coffee and start the process all over again. The mistakes are because of a little something that slips from your mind. 

There is no catharsis in the light.

Picture yourself; a small scared juvenile when compared to the other resident dwelling in the dark fetid depths of your nest. The darkness is absolute. There is nothing to see except the black and there is everything, to fear.

You're given a collection of colors. You begin to paint the picture on the easel, the picture you have created in your head, with the help of your fingers. As you progress, you notice the subtle fear. You feel it growing stronger as you strike the canvas with the paint. Your fingers race ahead and further in a desperate attempt to complete the picture, all this in stolid darkness.

But the fear only accentuates. It follows you at every step and edges closer to consuming you.  You are painting furiously, for you know it'll end when you finish. You breathe in quickly and pant like a mad canine. The sweat trickles down to your chin and drops to the abyss below. The fingers dip, slide across the easel and dip again. All, in a frightened frenzy.

The fear never stops. It is a tiger, a bear.

A Goliath, running at your feet, baring its fangs open. 

And it is now very near.

You complete your picture and let out a triumphant roar.

The fear recedes slowly, marking its wake inside the neurons of your brain, waiting to resurface. The sighs are your only companions now.

There is catharsis, true catharsis, only in the dark.