This is where the world slows down, and reverses back the eternal hurry that’s been invented in this post-post-modernist time, where the sound of cities become whispered secrets. This is where the details of things come to life.

Sadness is a downpour, while melancholy, can be anything.

In melancholy the possibilities are endless. Sadness is withdrawn and melancholy is outstretched

In sadness, the feeling of it overshadows everything and it searches for an outlet, always, to let go. Melancholy is already out there as much as it is in here, in one’s mind.

In my melancholy, I discovered I become susceptible to everything, and I see things in microscopic details.

My melancholy is the hallucination of reality, looking through life through painted glass. Where everything is needed, and nothing is left behind. It’s like watching the tsunami of life in slo

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