Emerging from the catacombs, it takes a great deal of self-constraint to not screech as if full of the power of the undead.
The time for nightly rounds is over. Now, the time to roam with owls and cats, mice and bats, has ended. It’s a new day, enjoy the light. Take joy in the sun.
Get up and run with legs gone weak from disuse. Being buried as if dead, there was no reason nor room to stretch and flex the limbs. Only the mouth was stretched in the motions of consumption.
Get out of the dark and cease the wasteful carnality.
No longer does the beast within make commands. True freedom has been renewed as an essential drive of one’s nature.
Even the image will change eventually. The core of light will overcome the cinder-tinted shroud. The heart of darkness has broken free of the chains of night. The heart now glows with the greater power—the power to make choices beyond the code of substandards, undertones, netherworlds.
The power of the undead has no weapon nor defense to counter the power of choice. Choice to wear a white shirt, for instance, is beyond the comprehension of the denizens of the night.
Certain choices, once made, lead to other grand freedoms. Choosing to enjoy the sun, daylight, even daytime activities, may be difficult at first to previous night-wanderers, but it becomes easier the more often it is chosen. Freedom here, is seen in the ability to move about in both day- and night-time hours. Converting to diurnal modes does not create limits toward the nocturnal, though the reverse often does.
So, now, it is time to emerge from the dungeons, rise up from the grave, shoot forth from the catacombs like a beam of light—quick, powerful, and lively.