in which i wax

melancholy. It's the new black for me. It's my skinny jeans. I like melancholy because I wear it well. It goes with everything I've got. It's a year rounder.

What I don't like it how things like a few seconds of a song can bring me just a smidge past melancholy into- let's call it- a trench. Oscar Wilde said, "We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars." I like his take, his not-to-put-too-fine-a-point-on-it. I know he wasn't exact. Some people are nowhere near the gutter and some haven't seen a star in years. Still, it sits well with me. At least... it did.

I pulled myself from the eternal and metaphysical gutter, but sometimes things like the light in a photograph can remind you of circumstances, words, star gazing. It's OK. I prefer the melancholy side anyway. I get suspicious of happy people, like really they just cry through the night so as to be so happy in my presence. Crying isn't something I do often and I'm not doing it now. This all is really about a song and how I wanted to listen to it, but after three seconds I had to turn it off- the images and words were just swimming too fast and I needed to slow them down if not stop them. And that my dears stinks, that other people can own something that you used to share or that was given to you. I want my melancholy songs without the tinge of extra melancholy.