I have spent months feeling blue. Deep blue. I woke up with its heaviness drowning me and went to bed with its weight on my shoulders.
Do you know why the sky appears blue? It is because blue has a smaller wavelength that scatters more when coming in contact with the atmosphere. Yet when I say I felt blue, I did not feel like the sky, or like the ocean, open, vast and free. No, I felt trapped, wishing every day could be the last in this world for me.
I thought I understood depression before, but this nearly killed me and left me broken. I am still scraping for words as I write this, words that would bring me to life. They arrive to me slower than before, but at least they are arriving. I write, another day, another time. Life is for the living. And words are the footprints we leave behind.
I hope you are a fellow wordsmith reading this dear, and please write write write. Write till the Blue turns Gold. Write till the heaviness dissipates to levitate you up into the sky, and you glisten like the sun, a speck of Gold amidst the Blue. Rise up.
Radi
Dhaka
April 2021
Do you know why the sky appears blue? It is because blue has a smaller wavelength that scatters more when coming in contact with the atmosphere. Yet when I say I felt blue, I did not feel like the sky, or like the ocean, open, vast and free. No, I felt trapped, wishing every day could be the last in this world for me.
I thought I understood depression before, but this nearly killed me and left me broken. I am still scraping for words as I write this, words that would bring me to life. They arrive to me slower than before, but at least they are arriving. I write, another day, another time. Life is for the living. And words are the footprints we leave behind.
I hope you are a fellow wordsmith reading this dear, and please write write write. Write till the Blue turns Gold. Write till the heaviness dissipates to levitate you up into the sky, and you glisten like the sun, a speck of Gold amidst the Blue. Rise up.
Radi
Dhaka
April 2021
