It's not as horrible as it sounds. It's not a pit of darkness with no light; it's the shade under a tree that keeps you cool when the heat is unbelievable. It doesn't lurk around corners or sneak up on you. It's hidden in plain sight, right alongside happiness.
There is sadness in dark windows on a dark night, in self-conscious giggles, in dirty kitchen floors, in not having any notifications.
There is calmness and stillness and coolness in an empty library, but there is also sadness. There is pride and love in singing to an audience who doesn't care, but there, of course, is also sadness.
There's something artistic and rich and full about that undertone of sadness. It makes life 3-dimensional. It tugs at your heart, and then you can remember, for at least one more day, that your heart isn't dead.
And, of course, it makes me cry--when I'm driving, when people are talking, when there's no one in the world to hear me.
There's something artistic and rich and full about that undertone of sadness. It makes life 3-dimensional. It tugs at your heart, and then you can remember, for at least one more day, that your heart isn't dead.
And, of course, it makes me cry--when I'm driving, when people are talking, when there's no one in the world to hear me.
Eloquent!
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