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“Sadness is the addition of melancholy, you know? Blue. Silver. Gray. Heavy as syrup. Gentle as the evening tide. Sadness fades. It has a beginning, and an end. Sometimes it loops, but there’s always causation. Not to be confused with depression, because that’s a whole different demon.” [...] “What I’ve been feeling isn’t sadness. There’s no end to it. It’s a black hole. Sucking, sucking, sucking at me. Eating away till there’s nothing left. It’s black, black, black. The absence of light. The absence of feelings in general. Nothingness, in the truest sense of the word.” He swallowed. “Even I can’t paint nothing.” — Fae Quin
Sadness is the addition of melancholy, you know? Blue. Silver. Gray. Heavy as syrup. Gentle as the evening tide. Sadness fades. It has a beginning, and an end. Sometimes it loops, but there’s always causation. Not to be confused with depression, because that’s a whole different demon.”
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“What I’ve been feeling isn’t sadness. There’s no end to it. It’s a black hole. Sucking, sucking, sucking at me. Eating away till there’s nothing left. It’s black, black, black. The absence of light. The absence of feelings in general. Nothingness, in the truest sense of the word.” He swallowed. “Even I can’t paint nothing.