here it comes. the melancholy and dreariness sets in. i compare it to how a flower might feel when it sheds its petals, an inevitable moment when due to the weather, its genes, the circumstances in its soil, the petals all fall to the ground. it happens to me. although i feel i flower every couple days and shed them just as often. i imagine we all have a cup of happiness and one of sadness given to us, one for each day or week or perhaps month. filled to the brim, it is sipped by us through the days, both sweetness and bitterness.

china:english

You can do what you decide to do — but you cannot decide what you will decide to do.

sam harris

some days are better then others. good news and events pour into the inbox while the wife is in an unusual pleasant mood and the weather is superb. others, well not so good. but it does not matter, for our moods are connected to things beyond our vision and circumstances, the weight on our shoulders are from years of circumstances, religions of guilt and triggered by things as small as a tweet or a glance perceived in the wrong way. so subtle we are. so soft our underbelly.

but all things pass, so does the sadness. in shepherds the good times. the hope arrives with a renewed energy. the fever breaks and all of a sudden you are no longer sick or sad. and better to have lived it, for happiness needs something to bounce off of, to compare itself too. and what better gauge then its mirrored image sadness to reflect from. this is the sweet spot of being sad, its only up from there.