The human heart is an interesting little thing. I would say it is a feather- free, beautiful and easily carried away. Seemed an apt comparison. It strikes my eye as a beautiful melancholy. It hovers around in our chest, 'bossed' around by a labyrinth of emotions and feelings, the metaphorical thin, unbreakable chords which hold it in its place.
When we are happy, it is almost as if the happiness is a wind which sweeps it off the ground. It is a free soul, losing itself in the soothing gusts engulfing it. Sadness and depression are deadweights trying to crush the delicate, little feather. Once we enter the blue funk, it is weighed down. We feel the labyrinthine chords of our emotions pulled by the weighed down feather. It hurts within our chest. Strangely enough, as much as we are supposed to get hurt, the feather enjoys the fall into the dark recesses of oblivion. The chords still stretching are manifested as lonely tears from the eyes. You wish they broke, yet they hold on. they know you are better than that. Murky darkness deluges the soul. The feather, ruffled and crushed, is yet pure and beautiful and heartwarming, ironically. The ever-stretching chords choke the lungs beside, gasping for breath
.
You close your eyes, hold your breath, feel the feather falling deep into the hollow cauldrons of nothingness, you try to keep your tears in with a knot in your throat. Yet a moment comes, when you give up for a moment, your breath in sad gulps and sighs groans, tears roll down and it takes a while to regain control.
Ever so slowly, the weights do lift, blossoming a new dawn. The feather, rekindling after an arduous ordeal, misses the subtle pangs of pain, the melancholy, for once real pain is endured, the feather falls in love with it. The melancholic strains of nature appeal to it in an unearthly way, which we do not understand ourselves. All we know is that we seem to love it when the feather sheds a tear. We know it doesn't sound right. We keep quiet about it.
But, do touch your heart and tell me- Haven't you ever loved that feeling of darkness, loneliness, helplessness, frustration engulfing you, all at once? Not once in your whole life? You are not alone, mate. there's you, there's me and millions more out there, The league of melancholics! Amen.
During another frustrated night,
yours truly..
When we are happy, it is almost as if the happiness is a wind which sweeps it off the ground. It is a free soul, losing itself in the soothing gusts engulfing it. Sadness and depression are deadweights trying to crush the delicate, little feather. Once we enter the blue funk, it is weighed down. We feel the labyrinthine chords of our emotions pulled by the weighed down feather. It hurts within our chest. Strangely enough, as much as we are supposed to get hurt, the feather enjoys the fall into the dark recesses of oblivion. The chords still stretching are manifested as lonely tears from the eyes. You wish they broke, yet they hold on. they know you are better than that. Murky darkness deluges the soul. The feather, ruffled and crushed, is yet pure and beautiful and heartwarming, ironically. The ever-stretching chords choke the lungs beside, gasping for breath
You close your eyes, hold your breath, feel the feather falling deep into the hollow cauldrons of nothingness, you try to keep your tears in with a knot in your throat. Yet a moment comes, when you give up for a moment, your breath in sad gulps and sighs groans, tears roll down and it takes a while to regain control.
Ever so slowly, the weights do lift, blossoming a new dawn. The feather, rekindling after an arduous ordeal, misses the subtle pangs of pain, the melancholy, for once real pain is endured, the feather falls in love with it. The melancholic strains of nature appeal to it in an unearthly way, which we do not understand ourselves. All we know is that we seem to love it when the feather sheds a tear. We know it doesn't sound right. We keep quiet about it.
But, do touch your heart and tell me- Haven't you ever loved that feeling of darkness, loneliness, helplessness, frustration engulfing you, all at once? Not once in your whole life? You are not alone, mate. there's you, there's me and millions more out there, The league of melancholics! Amen.
During another frustrated night,
yours truly..
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