There will always be that one person, specifically one who doesn't feel. One who has certain thoughts and questions, wondering what they are; and who they are.
In a colorful, and lively crowd, they stand out. Because meanwhile the others are rather radiant, they simply lack hue. And so, they are quite aware of it. Hence; the constant dim bubble of thoughts haunting the back of their head, the unceasing darkness of it creeping closer, and closer as time grows.
The overwhelming sensation, desperately trying to shut it out but never succeeding. Being the shadow of something as bright, containing the darkest histories within it's very own abyss. An ongoing conflict between the one who decides, and the one who suffers the consequences.
A seemingly normal entity, but a simple glimpse of what consists behind the mask could— quite easily— make your stomach wretch as your heart pounds, obliviously attempting to break free of the fragile human body.
Unpredictability of one's shadow.
