I sit and listen to my sad songs, song about an angel, sweet child o' mine, nervous & weird, got me wrong, summerland... the list goes on. So many more sad than happy songs. It's so much easier to be sad than happy, it settles so gently, so sweetly, like leaves falling onto the lawn in the fall. Before you know it you're drowing in it. The thing about sadness... I know when I'm completely sad. I never question it. When I'm happy, I always have my doubts. And it never stays. I can always count on ol' sadness to be there for me, it's waiting, every day, every hour, every minute. It's waiting for me. Open arms always ready to embrace me, to slow me down, to put me to sleep in its chilly grip, always dragging me down, pushing me towards inaction. Eventually it comforts me, but at first I always try to resist. I try to escape it rather than sink into it, but it's like quicksand, it just pulls me down more quickly, my attempts futile. After I give up it gets easier. Numb is easier than trying. At least numb doesn't hurt. The only thing that breaks it is the blinding brightness of happiness... but it never stays for long, never so long as the sadness, and the cycle begins again.
fall
glimmer
sparkleandfade
...
I was no longer taking the beating
I was giving it
and that's when I learned that it was better
to give
than to receive
...
It's not all bad, though. Icy sadness is not without its comforts and tranquility. The flowers on my nightstand. The smell of my pillow. Donuts, and the promise of more donuts. A long hot bubble bath. A ten minute phonecall. Shoes completing the outfit. Correct change.
It's the small victories that arrest the sadness, stop its decent upon me, stabilize it, and help me befriend it again.
Old friend.
fall
glimmer
sparkleandfade
...
I was no longer taking the beating
I was giving it
and that's when I learned that it was better
to give
than to receive
...
It's not all bad, though. Icy sadness is not without its comforts and tranquility. The flowers on my nightstand. The smell of my pillow. Donuts, and the promise of more donuts. A long hot bubble bath. A ten minute phonecall. Shoes completing the outfit. Correct change.
It's the small victories that arrest the sadness, stop its decent upon me, stabilize it, and help me befriend it again.
Old friend.
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Unfamiliar decay seems tragic
Glimmer is the faded shimmer
Solid in the madness of the sane