The wind played high and mighty. The trees danced in accordance with its silent melody. The ground was still, patches of green here and there.
I was sitting on the bench, sympathizing with myself. The past couple of days had been difficult. There were moments of sadness, moments when I felt alone. My mind was the culprit. Being alone with it was painful. . Its method of torture, its way of making me realize.
Bombardment of memories; i'd avoid talking or thinking about. Breaking the pressure was difficult, its grip was strong on me- my mind. Helping me relate with miseries of others. Not letting me see the light in a time when I needed it most. I was encapsulated in a hell my mind had created especially for me, where I sat in silence, looking at broken moments. I couldn't yell, I couldn't ask for help. What was I supposed to say? Help me my mind is torturing me? So I can be labelled insane? But, sadly, even the insane are happy. They have no care, no gain, no loss, no pain. They make their happiness in moments where no sane can. I got up from the bench and started walking to the exit, realizing there is no way out of regret, no way out of despair. No way out of betrayal.
Happiness? That's just a form- A form of hunger that never fulfills. It dies out soon and you long for it again. . Not the case with sadness. Its negativity always keeps a stronghold on you- Denys you. Doesn't let you have anything sufficiently enough to begin your ending...