Meloncholy March by Bon Lee

Abraham says to get into the Vortex of Creation before writing—or doing any work you care about, but don’t have to do right then.  I can see why.  So I won’t write today.   I’ll relax and rest, enjoying the thunderclouds and rain.  Also beautiful ideas, images, words, and music like these.

The words of Alan Watts show why we needn’t worry about having days and moods like this.  They are a part of human existence.

Video Link

That softly flowing music was by Max Richter.

Music Video Link

Here’s a  brilliantly beautiful comment on the YouTube video:

Zach Fross

Melancholy Poppies

As I lay on the cold cement ground, my back pushing between the cracks, my arms spread like an angels wings, so heavy I can’t lift a finger, my heart spread across my sleeve and the colour in my eyes fading as I numbly stare into the darkening clouds building mass, a couple of rain drops spill, hobbling down my paling cheeks, replacing the tears these ducts dried up of a very long time ago and I begin to forget why I’m here, my sadness still there but the reasons behind it already vanishing, my dreams, my passions, the person I wished to become, all distancing at once, I finally realise, it wasn’t death I wished for this entire time, no the agony hadn’t disappeared along with the rest of my essence, It’s at that point, when the world turns into a blurry haze, I realise what I had actually wished for. I had wished in the moment of fearing death that I might, for a brief instance, experience for the first time, what wanting to stay alive felt like.

Do I wish you farewell… or should I curse you for my terrorizing pain? Who knows. I haven’t decided yet. I don’t care enough to.

I see nothing before me, yet I’m aware of what I’m expecting, as though you’re about to enter a room you haven’t yet opened the door to but you’ve already seen what’s inside. It’s the place where you entrust your tears, where your emotions become sight, the sound, the smell, the taste and the touch, it’s like reliving your favourite memory for the first time, over and over again. It’s not as delusional as Heaven, or as scary as Hell, simply… It’s the place where you need to be most.