Early Morning Beliefs

I have a small bouncy ball that I was given by a friend. It’s about an inch in diameter and has a tight, single seam that runs around the entire equator of my tiny globe. It has that nice misty color scheme that many marbles and bouncy balls have and has a very nice, light shade of purple as its base color. I really like it a lot. It’s very bouncy and cute.
Recently, I was lying down to go to sleep and my bouncy ball was across the room on the floor. I thought it was the perfect spot for it. I turned off the back-light on my alarm clock so I could be in complete darkness and allowed my head to fall back into the cushions at the head of my bed.
I awoke with a jolt around two, just before I hit the ground. I sat up in a heated sweat and remembered that I only jumped off of the cliff to escape the zombie outbreak and not because, like before in my real-life, I had given up on everything.
As I looked up, I realized that my room was completely dark. There was no light anywhere. From no crack or crevice, it was an entirely pitch black area.
I soon notice, however, across my room was a small light source emitting a faint, purple light. I couldn’t fathom what could be producing the energy I was seeing.
I got up and walked across my room; gingerly to make sure that I didn’t hit anything or injure myself in the process.
As I made my way across the empty vastness laid out in front of me, I noticed the small glowing light to be a small, rock sized object.
It was my bouncy ball.
My bouncy ball glowed in the dark.
I didn’t know that.
When I picked it up, I knew it was the small little sphere that I had become accustomed to. It fit in my palm and was as smooth as a freshly polished stone.
As I stared into the little light sitting in my hand, I noticed it looked more like a small circle that it did during the day. Because of the inky blackness all surrounding my prized object, the small bouncy sphere appeared to be a simple, glowing, purple circle sitting in my hand.
I was dumbfounded. It felt like a sphere but appeared to be simply a shape with no sides. I couldn’t believe it.
Then I realized that all shapes lose their dimensions in the dark. If no light can produce a shadow for an object, then it is impossible to see the depth of that shape. This further is solidified with the fact that a light source from something cannot create a shadow for or cast light upon what creates the light. Ergo, a flashlight cannot create its own shadow.
This held up for the small little sphere that I was staring at. It sat in my hand like a little star of my own soul cast upon the universe contained in my room.
I then began to think; maybe this principle of losing a dimension in the dark could pertain to people as well.
I thought, what happens in the complete dark for people?
Either sleep or sex.
Both are equally revealing activities for people. They are both things where we as humans lose the shields and masks we put up around ourselves in the “real” world.
During sex, we are literally sharing out bodies with another human being. We lose our singularity for a short moment and become vulnerable and loving with another person. We cannot show this person how we want to be seen and how we portray ourselves to the rest of the world. We can only show them what we truly are. There are no shadows, there are no mimics. There are just paintings or art and truth.
Sleep is another confusing principle. Rather than continuing our basic day-to-day livelihood and thoughts, with sleep we are cast into a vast void of unconscious thought and behavior. We can no longer control our basic urges. Sleep is where our ids come out to play and act their favorite ideas and behaviors in our minds. We cannot control ourselves or what we think; we just act and live like we are animals.
That is what we are in the dark, animals. When the lights go out, we lose the extra dimension of humanity which we use to cover our true intentions and thoughts. We cannot be “real”, three-dimensional beings; in the dark we retreat and retract into two-dimensional animals that live and act on basic instinct.
But maybe, I’m over thinking this.
And maybe, I’m just staring at my bouncy ball for far too long.