The darkness is deep. Like being in a cavern underneath the ground where you can’t even see the hand in front of your own face. So dark you question whether or not you even exist. But the darkness is broken by pinpricks of light. Pinpricks of beauty. Pinpricks of soft light that kiss the darkness and make it less formidable. These lights are old. They hold history. They have seen centuries upon centuries of stuff. Wars. Perfect love. Movements. Change. They are mysterious because they know so much. And yet, it is not a terrible mystery. It is beautiful and it shines with a knowledge that wants to give but has no choice to do so. And, it’s funny because isn’t life always like that? The secrets we want to share we can’t, and the things we wish to keep for ourselves forever never stay hidden.