A leaf has fallen. A brown large yellow dry old leaf. It fell in front of my 3-year-old nephew. He went and bought an oval-shaped bath soap because the smell of it made him happy. Now his two-year-old sister also wants to hold it. I say maybe cut it? So both of you have equal halves. But then that would take the beauty out of it that is the oval shape.
A man is taking his dog for a walk. It's a pug. I have always wondered why people adored pugs so much. They aren't even that cute. Maybe I should buy a pet. I could buy a fish for starters. Hmm. I have seen a kid selling goldfish on the roadside nearby. Hmm.
My 3-year-old and 2-year-old nephews went to play at the nearby house. He tells me not to take the soap because he wants to have the first bath with it. I'm sitting on the wooden swing that my father had made for them. It's positioned pretty low but it does the job. I sit there for 30 minutes.
Now, the thing about melancholy.
The thing about melancholy is that it doesn't come with an ETA or an ETD.
And although it comes down as a party of clouds slowly flowing down to over your head. It doesn't come with a warning or invitation or any sorts of forecastings.
The thing about melancholy is that, once you get the jiff of it, there is no going back. You'll find yourself seeking, searching, craving for it at every corner you can find. In a look a stranger gave you. That text someone sent you. That comment you added went unnoticed. You look for it everywhere. And lucky for you, before too long you're able to find a bit of it.
And another thing is the quantity or intensity of the thing doesn't matter really. Because melancholy is more like a slowly growing parasitic exponential graphical sort of thing. At one point of the day, you're like, "Oh that thing, hmm a potential candidate for today's melancholic spiral trip." And next thing you know, you're on the floor lying face down. You realize the thing has kinda grown all over you. It washed over you and took your lively soul with it until god knows when.
So that's the thing, melancholy doesn't come with an ETA or an ETD. It just leaves you there, waiting, longing, yearning, but the sad part is, you don't know what you're longing for. So you just sit there, sit there.... waiting for the cloud to pass over you.
But a part of you also kinda doesn't want it to pass, because fuck, you kinda like the damp gloomy comfort it gives you. The feeling that no matter what happens now, you're down here so there is no falling again. Fuck you void.
So maybe it's a good thing that melancholy doesn't come with an ETA or an ETD. Because if it did, you'd know when would the cloud pass over and now you know you just have to pass time till then maybe sleep or something. And you would know when it's going to come and you can totally prepare for it. I mean that would take the fun out of it. So what I'm saying is, the beauty of melancholy is that it does not come with an ETA or an ETD. The sheer unexpectedness or snap, just like that, like a fucking switch. That, ...that not knowing makes it a feeling worth lying face down getting ripped to pieces for.
Sayonara.
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