I am soon going to stop functioning in this world. At least functioning in the way one is expected to function. I can feel the madness approaching, some days are so filled with it that I can hardly speak to anyone. I have become a construct of thoughts and ideas, fantasies and creations that are beyond any realm of reality. I fear because I do not know how I am to live life like this. Where will I get food, where will I find shelter? But I have tried and I have given up, to stop it from being the centre of my life. Sweet melancholia.
I have spent countless, sleepless nights because my brain would not be still. So what am I to do but to give up and accept it? As if I had been given a choice – you make me laugh. If in the past I had been given a choice I would have chosen a different path but now I have embraced it to be me, to be mine.
What I am to do with it I dare not to ask. I shall spend entire days in bed because I do not see the point of stepping out of my house. Other days I shall spend reading novels and poetry. Other days I shall spend noting down every thought I have. Other days I shall write poems and short stories. Other days I shall discover the beauty of numbers. It is all I can do and it is all I am meant to be.
Would you ask a sportsman to cook you a meal? Would you ask a dancer to teach history to the young? Then why do you ask me to do what I cannot? I know nothing of offices and business and trade. Give me a thought and I shall debate it, give me a word and I shall create from it, give me a sheet of paper and I shall write. Don’t ask me to let go of it in favour of something that would make my life not worth living. Have I not embraced this sadness for a reason? If it loses its meaning, why live at all?
No, no, I shall build upon what I have been given. In many directions I will aim and you will sit and wonder and shake your head. You won’t understand which is why you are there – and I am here, spending days in depression but loving it because it is all that I’ve got. And I will love the world and my life and my being, how it is all drawn by melancholy, and I shall spend my life thinking and slowly sinking, deep into sweet, sweet melancholy.