Strange Pleasure in Sadness


[ENTRY 6..✍]

"My assassin, like Casper the Ghost

There's no shade in the shadow of the cross~♪"

2:50am. The night is cold, calm, and quiet. 'Disturbance of the peace' some people may say to the occasional barking of the dogs traversing the neighbourhood, crowing of the roosters, and chirping of the crickets; to my ears, they complete the musical of the familiar serenity amidst someone's misery.

My misery.

And as the world falls asleep when the dark hours loom over, I drown the silence with a song that sings my loneliness in September.

It's crazy, is it not? How we feed our sadness by surrendering ourselves to the evil that exists in our head. I mean, I don't know about others. Perhaps it's just me who sometimes dives into it willingly. Otherwise I wouldn't be playing sad songs that make some nights even colder and lonelier in the first place, opening the gate of my thoughts ajar to allow entry to all shades of melancholy.