have you ever felt like there was a beast inside of you? not a harmful one. but wild. untamed. it is powerful but gentle.
I can feel that beast, rising in me. in times of sorrow, or deep nights when all I can hear is the whisper of my own hidden thoughts.
what is it made of?
mine is made up of forgotten dreams, and hushed pains. secret feelings I have balled up and tossed into the abyss of my soul.
I'm scared of the beast inside of me. I trust it less than I trust the face in the mirror. I'm scared of the beast, not because she will hurt me. not because she will change me. I am scared of the beast because
she is me.
she is raw me. and she could set me free. if I let her.
the face in the mirror does not like her. she does not like anything she cannot control. she only lets the beast out on a tight leash. when she needs its power.
what makes a beast? is it pain or pleasure. isolation or society. concealment or exposure.
a beast consumes and gives nothing. a beast hunts the weak and broken. a beast lies. cheats. steals. bargains. and a beast never dreams.
so
the beast is not the wild things inside of me. the passion, the unruly hope, the vivid dreams.
the beast is the face in the mirror. and if one day, the leash snaps, she will finally meet
herself
-from Nie
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