Entry No. 1.7

THOUGHTS

Thinking about sadness is like entering a dark tunnel without a bright end. Sadness is the Dementors of my very being when everything seems unsure and weakening. That is the core of my persona when I am cloaked in layers of shadows; that no matter where I look at, no light comes through.
This is the time when I want to write, paint and draw, because I am not a story-teller. I do not boast around my sadness through my tongue. I want people to heave the heaviness within me through my poems, pictures and sketches. I want them to experience the pain themselves, because, honestly, it is too much for anyone to bear, and no one should actually be feeling it.

But that’s the beauty about sadness, I guess. The greatest songs and books were made out of a broken heart. The brightest colors stand-out because of the darkest hues. The best days are cherished because of the worst ones.

When sadness is over and happiness takes its place, I am an imbecile – completely useless. All I can think of is butterflies, glitters, rainbows, unicorns, cotton candies and baby’s breath. You see, I am not a story-teller because that kind of happiness frightens me. What if it would not last? I cannot write, sketch or paint because what if it would not last. I cannot think like a normal human being. I am in a bubble that anytime may burst.

But, I have been a hot mess. I am living a monotonous life, or so I thought. I am not sad. People can actually see that, because my words are empty with emotions. I have not touched my brushes and paints but for photography. I am not happy as well. It is like something is missing. There is a link I do not know where to find. There is a space that has not been filled in yet, a guessing game left unanswered for a very long time. I feel like I am hanging mid-air. I do not know where to stand, or should I be flying or running?