People say it’s blue but I don’t think so.
Imagine painting a picture of sorrow, it could be any thing like a red of passionate blood - just like the thorn bird - life’s most satisfying moment could only be purchased by great pain. It could also be a white pic, ‘cuz the purest is most likely to die of getting stained. Sorrow could be a transparent pic, as the more you see things thru, the more mournfulness your eyes might be filled with.
If I could keep only one thing to me, I would always embrace sorrow. Never think of it as sth for discarding. Sorrow adds low notes to make me feel alive. Sorrow helps me know the story in seemingly nonliving things. Sorrow urges me to live gratefully. That’s why I love feeling beautifully sad.
Comments