Dear Sombre Thursday,
I woke up to you with a slightly heavier heart than of yesterday’s hump Wednesday. The heart carries some thoughts and memories of the love that slipped away from my grasp.
Me, as a person, has very little control over myself. But then I look at the plants on my window panes. And the breeze of your cloudy wind brushes onto the leaves and somehow gives it life. I smile. Indeed a sombre kind of joy, but joy nonetheless.
The scent from the candles that I burnt last night by my window pane filled the air as I read my newsletters facing the window. Again, a sombre kind of joy, but joy nonetheless.
It’s not yet noon here, from this part of the Earth that I’m at right now. And as much as it’s bright as a day, the sun has not pierce its rays onto us yet. Waiting is something very heavy in my dictionary right now, though I would want to redefine it as ‘space’ and ‘opportunity’ instead.
It’s interesting that as ‘longing’ came back to my raison d’etre after a brief joy of ‘belonging’, the art of writing came back as well. Indeed it is an ‘either or’ ability. It is a sombre kind of joy, but joy nonetheless.
Today is going to be a slightly heavier day for me. But of course I’ll survive. We have survived through worse days, what can a sombre Thursday do that we have not gotten anyway, right? But I don’t disrespect you, sombre Thursday. This is your power. A sombre kind of power, but power nonetheless.
Well, you be good now. Go make friends with the birds and the rays. While I go make friend with this joy, at its best.