Once in a while, life makes you realize you were born to be depressed. Of small things. Of big things. Of nothings. But you’ve got to be depressed to be part of the crowd. Perhaps, you are not content with the way you look or smell or think or express. And worst of all – no wait, worstest of all – people think they know you. It’s like you are a guinea pig in a huge social experiment. Society is, after all, an invisible layer of stress, constantly wanting you to act in a certain way or the other. But at the end of the day, no can harm you more than you. That’s an unestablished fact.
We keep chasing happiness only to realize it was peace of mind, not happiness, we were after. No wonder sadness is never out of fashion. It’s always there around the corner waiting to pounce on you and won’t give up until you yield to its magic. A big part of the problem dwells in our mindset too. We shape our desires and ambitions and worldly hoo-haa-haa according to elements encircling us. We are never really free, you reckon?
Some of us confuse depression with disease. Even science wants us to believe so. Well, it’s a personal take but if depression is a medical disorder, then happiness is too. Shrinks may not agree as they are too busy stuffing you with drugs that go smoothly with your hollow system and your supremely f-ed-up mind.
We are facing our own creations. Moreover, sadness is underestimated for all the power it holds. In reality, it is more powerful than happiness. A happy moment doesn’t stick with you for long. Blame it on biased amnesia but that’s how it is. Smiling randomly reminiscing about gone good days doesn’t take place much often but crying hoarse over how life had been unfair in the past is quite a famous exercise.
As usual, there was no straightforward intention to come up with this piece. Just plain depression at not being able to come up with anything better.