airyannarose
Duke
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The World As I See It.
There is a magic in life that most people see, hear, experience so often that is becomes normal. A quiet day with shafts of sunlight dancing along the path. A shift in the wind that scatters flower petals from the trees as you walk along your usual trek to work or school. A lilting melody that seems to drift to you from nowhere at all. Beautiful moments too nice to be called mundane, but somehow still so normal that no one questions them. Most times, you barely even notice them.
Yet I notice, all too repetitively. I notice every fleeting moment of such magic. For it is of the kind that I wish were the only type of magic to be experienced. A world of small, pretty surprises and wonders. If only others could see them for what they are. And the reason I can see them so clearly? Well, that is because I see other magic as well.
Magic is not always so soft and special. It's odd, but... if typical people witness small miracles each and every day, it stops seeming like magic to them at all. I, on the other hand, see those moments so very rarely that each one seems just as miraculous as it is meant to be.
Time seems fast for most, but for me... Every. Moment. Drags. Sunlight on a white-stone path edged in green grass and bright-pink petals. The soothing sound of a brook just ahead. The soft babble of small children frolicking about the park, the laughter of mothers who walk together and chat while their little ones play chase. It is a quiet day for them.
But not for me. The world is full of contradictions. Full of them. Bright sunlight from above.. dark shadows following. The scent of peach blossoms... the stench of rotting blooms upon the ground. The bright, happy sound of children at play... the screams of agony and torment ringing in my ears. The soft brush of petals against my arms and face... the harsh scratch of nails clawing at my skin. The cool caress of the wind... and the warm touch of breath in my ear, whispering.
//You can see us... I know you do!//
I pretend I do not. I continue to walk along with my friends, to carry on conversation and 'enjoy' such a nice day. But inwardly, I know it is not a nice day. It is a magical day, so perfect and peaceful... I envy all of them for being able to only see it.
As for me, I see both types of magic. I see the mundane sort of magic this world takes for granted. And I see the shadowy magic that is opposite of it, that drenches everything in pain and misery. It overlaps the world of light so evenly that I cannot see one without the other. But I choose to live in the white world. I ignore the demons and imps and creatures I see in the darkness. I watch my friends around me and try to live as they do. I try to pretend that the beautiful magic... is too mundane to be ethereal. I pretend it is as normal as they think.
There is a magic in life that most people see, hear, experience so often that is becomes normal. A quiet day with shafts of sunlight dancing along the path. A shift in the wind that scatters flower petals from the trees as you walk along your usual trek to work or school. A lilting melody that seems to drift to you from nowhere at all. Beautiful moments too nice to be called mundane, but somehow still so normal that no one questions them. Most times, you barely even notice them.
Yet I notice, all too repetitively. I notice every fleeting moment of such magic. For it is of the kind that I wish were the only type of magic to be experienced. A world of small, pretty surprises and wonders. If only others could see them for what they are. And the reason I can see them so clearly? Well, that is because I see other magic as well.
Magic is not always so soft and special. It's odd, but... if typical people witness small miracles each and every day, it stops seeming like magic to them at all. I, on the other hand, see those moments so very rarely that each one seems just as miraculous as it is meant to be.
Time seems fast for most, but for me... Every. Moment. Drags. Sunlight on a white-stone path edged in green grass and bright-pink petals. The soothing sound of a brook just ahead. The soft babble of small children frolicking about the park, the laughter of mothers who walk together and chat while their little ones play chase. It is a quiet day for them.
But not for me. The world is full of contradictions. Full of them. Bright sunlight from above.. dark shadows following. The scent of peach blossoms... the stench of rotting blooms upon the ground. The bright, happy sound of children at play... the screams of agony and torment ringing in my ears. The soft brush of petals against my arms and face... the harsh scratch of nails clawing at my skin. The cool caress of the wind... and the warm touch of breath in my ear, whispering.
//You can see us... I know you do!//
I pretend I do not. I continue to walk along with my friends, to carry on conversation and 'enjoy' such a nice day. But inwardly, I know it is not a nice day. It is a magical day, so perfect and peaceful... I envy all of them for being able to only see it.
As for me, I see both types of magic. I see the mundane sort of magic this world takes for granted. And I see the shadowy magic that is opposite of it, that drenches everything in pain and misery. It overlaps the world of light so evenly that I cannot see one without the other. But I choose to live in the white world. I ignore the demons and imps and creatures I see in the darkness. I watch my friends around me and try to live as they do. I try to pretend that the beautiful magic... is too mundane to be ethereal. I pretend it is as normal as they think.