I Wake Up.

I wake up feeling sad.
And I don't know what to do about it.

It's a foreign kind of numbness that surrounds me these days. A sort of numbness and detaste that is new to my skin. Although I am pretty familiar with depression and its routes in my brain, this one seems to have curved up a road I've never been to, and I'm forced to walk on it every single day, with heavy steps.

These days I wake up feeling sad.
And I don't know what to do about it.

I'm a scholar in ignorance. An expert in the arts of avoidance and abstention. It's skill born out of days misery and storms I've faced, and it’s a skill I still hone. It's a talent, being well-versed in how to put the lid on things the best, and being a master at hiding them away, from the eyes of both myself and the rest of the world. But these days, even my skills have left me barren, and I no longer know how to hide.

This depression of mine, this unknown shade of blue that has suddenly surrounded my already blue heart, I've also tried to place it in a room furthest from my house of emotions. But there seem to be cracks on my door, as it peaks out at me on the oddest of hours.

So because of this,

These days, I wake up feeling sad, and I don't know what to do about it.

Even though I was never quite the talker, this blue within me has taken away my urge to speak. Words rarely come out of my mouth now, nor does it bleed out from my pen like it used to. Most around me surely think I've grown a batch of newly inflamed ego, but all I have inside me is a barren land, burned and charred; with no sign of life in miles. I don't talk because I've lost the will to do so, and I don't write because the writer within me has died.

Because of this,

These days I wake up feeling sad. And I don't know what to do about it.

Time and time again, what the blues had taught me is how in the end, there aren't many out there on the line for you. Yes, only a fated few will stick by our side through thick and thin, but it's always a give and take situation for the rest.

"No one cares when you are sad.'"

It's a line that has always rung true to my ears, and it's proving to be true once more. It’s just you and your blues. No one wants to share the shade, and no one cares enough to listen.

But this solitude and barrenness, they decided to grow on me anyways. Like ivy they havr wrapped around me. And slowly and surely, I'm getting used to them.

These days I wake up feeling sad, and I hate it.

Because just as the solitude and barrenness, I feel myself getting used to this sadness as well. And like any dying sailor on a sinking ship, I have no one but me and myself to blame for it.