melancholy to me is like tea, sweetheart.

I cannot begin to tell you how much I adore the taste of tea (although I am pretty sure you're already painfully aware), so let me tell you about how I love the bitter taste of sweet melancholy.

I mean, I can't help it, some people are just conditioned more pessimistically. And unfortunately, but fortunately enough, my soul dresses itself that way.

Melancholy, makes me feel unique and deep. I mean, it can't be all too bad now, can it? I find hidden joy in melancholy, I find emotional compassion in melancholy, I find the body of humanity in melancholy, I find myself in melancholy, I find self-awareness in melancholy.

I feel like my mind has finally found a friend in melancholy. Happiness is cool and all, but it's not guaranteed. Melancholy reassures me; it will linger.

As you know, my internality's favourite liquid happens to be tea, and just like that my internality's favourite state is melancholy. I am aware it sounds immensely eccentric and polemical. But my capriciousness cannot help it.

Btw the essence of this post exudes spiritual, emotive and intellectual coherence rather than sole abstractly rigid linearity.

Just like optimism, melancholy has different shades, maybe even tenfold more? -

Whimsical melancholy

Expressive melancholy

Jubiliant melancholy

Exuberant melancholy

Numb melancholy

Spontaneous melancholy

Grim melancholy

Morbid melancholy

Wrathful melancholy

Alive melancholy

Terrifying melancholy

Colourful melancholy....

And perhaps that's not only fascinating but quite humbling.

All I want to convey is that optimism, pessimism, joy, sorrow and yada yada all are verbal constructs...but how do you even know what you feel?

I mean we just stamp words on what we feel and perceive, and of course, that's fine but it just goes so much deeper. For me, I have felt that harmonically - melancholy, numbness, joy and spontaneity have co-existed as an amalgamation. So what the hell do these words even mean, other than their rudimentary and quotidian definitions. Personally, I believe that they are definitely not mutually exclusive, and they shouldn't even be treated as such.

I believe that the beauty of a human lies in uncertainty and embracing the very fluid nature of obscurity. Embracing the melancholy, empathy, delight, fear, humanism, compassion, numbness, spirituality and so forth...

a war of hearts,

a war of minds,

a war of souls,

a war between the very concept of what our whole existence.

Circling this back to melancholy:

Why melancholy? Why not joy?

I mean, I literally cannot help but be overcome with it, even though I try not to, it's intoxicating, consuming, devouring and honestly?

Overwhelms my soul in the best way possible. Joy isn't that multivariate, for me at least.

And I am not romanticizing hurt, agony and pain, by the way. I mean, of course I want to be HAPPY. WHO DOESN'T?

The thing is I find wonder in despair. This doesn't mean I brood all the time, dramatically muttering, 'fuck life, life is so sad, everyone sucks, I hate life'

Well... maybe sometimes?

But that's not the point,

The point is -

That melancholy doesn't always have to necessarily mean sadness.

It's a colour, a texture, a state of being, a flexible variable.

melancholy is;

the black nail polish sleeping on my nails

the mocha lipstick painting my lips

the beige pages of books staring at my eyes

the ink of words stitching my mind

the dark burgundy shade of black dahlias

the sweetheart pink shade of azaleas

the fluid existence of every creature in the universe

and finally, a scalding cup of creamy tea.

So, to every ethereal star reading this, I have one personal recommendation:

go make yourself a cup of tea.

see the brown and white swirl.

stare at the steam.

let it sit on your tongue a little.

and relish the sumptuous taste of your soul's melancholy.

Until then,

With whimsy and melancholy,

XOXO,

🧚‍♀️MaryTheLamp