Melancholia ~ Van Morrison


Some days I want to devote myself to being sad.
 Does that fit the definition of melancholy? It should. 
I find something so beautiful in a rare day devoted to sadness. 
And I love the word melancholy.

Listen to all the songs that break your heart because they remind you of all the other times you had your heart broken. Currently: Last Kiss, Innocent,  Taylor Swift.  House That Built Me, Miranda Lambert. Fool of Me, Bilal. Can't Find My Way Home, Blind Faith. Sparks, We Never Change, Trouble, Don't Panic, Coldplay. Title and Registration, Death Cab for Cutie. Not Like The Movies, Katy Perry. Can't Be Friends, Trey Songz. Grace, U2.

To read the poetry that is heavy with longing and loss. For instance, Tonight I can write the saddest lines by Pablo Neruda. I really love Neruda. Or read The Book Thief  by Mark Zusak again.

And then to watch Little Women so I can cry when Angela Chase Beth dies. And then Wit.

And then maybe stare out the window for a few hours and ponder the wreckage of my 20's while wishing for mood weather. A gunmetal gray sky and drizzling rain.

Or maybe a dark ominous thunderstorm and a copy of Wuthering Heights.

Or a stealthy snowstorm and a cup of something warm and a puzzle and Beethoven's Symphony No. 7 in A Major. Possibly the saddest classical composition I have ever heard.

Maybe it's not so much sadness as it is the desire to hibernate and engage in lonely activities.