Tend Towards

Sad

Sadness is multifaceted, multicoloured and bathed in prismatic hues. An object of regular proportions, where, at some parts, the edges are slightly sharper than you'd like them to be, and, at others, too dull to notice.

The adage that a feeling is blue comes to mind at certain times, but, really, you feel all the colours in disproportionate measure.  Red stabs at you with vibrant tendrils of anguish and a steeled, sharp penetration of pride, while simultaneously Blue devours you with an icy chill that throbs with a full ache beneath your thoughts. Green and Gold haunt you, like loneliness in suffering and hope out of reach.

This object of sorrow turns, casting rays alternate vectors, churning within you into a burning and self-indulgent cancer. It's sharp edges cut into you, only for its duller edges to stroke and scratch at. Its proud faces draw diagrams in the hollows of your thoughts while its narrow valleys collect the vestiges of your joy.

This foul machination grinds at your sensibility, shedding sorrow as it refracts your light, and you realise that the only measure you can take is to shut out the light altogether.

But you don't. Because stumbling in the dark with sharp toys afoot feels more dangerous that a mindful observation of a harmful machine.

So you live in the light and you suffer, because you're an optimist, and love is pain.