Melancholy

Shakespeare said it best, but i will say it differently

There’s a world inside another, tucked away, and around a corner. Behind that place, under that bridge, and different than the former.

Colored grey from shadowed memory, concealed yet obviously present. Bound tightly to the past; loosely to the present; and free of the future.

Roads not taken overtake and consume those traversed. Choking reason, asphyxiating dreams, and churning deep depressions.

From the outside looking in, it is called misunderstanding. And from the inside looking out, it is called Confusion.

It was carved out of adversity, and caged by monotony. Pursued with fever, yet stifled by timing.

There is a world inside another just waiting; To be segregated, or amalgamated; To be awoken, or put to sleep; To live, or die; To be or not to be

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Its been a pretty bla day. Not sure why, it just is. It is hot and muggy out, there is nowhere to escape the stifling heat. And so, with nowhere to turn, you are left wallowing in the heat. Thinking about those days gone by whenthere always seemed to a cool breeze blowing in my mind to keep me interested.

I can only hope things cool down tonight. At the least, enough to let me sleep. Sleep will be good. An escape to a cool island, lets just hope.

Goodnight