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JOURNAL

TRIGGERED MELANCHOLIA

Under this gloomy and depressing weather is a boy celebrating for the mood that he gains from the chill. The colossal memories hiding from the past is dancing with the soothing rain drops flowing at the roof of this small chaotic bungalow shelter.

Hi, I’m Kenn. Surviving in a neighborhood consisting with two moods, gloomy and sunny, affects my disposition every now and then. Last week, it was announced from our local news forecast that summer was totally over and rainy season was coming. The changes of moods were inevitable. It’s like moon and sun; positive and negative, they were total opposite pushing each other but useless and incomplete without the other.

Last night while drowning myself in this chaotic paradise called “the internet”, I stumbled upon mickey’s message-post written for me a year ago. That was the first time I’ve read the text and got a suspicion that it WAS posted privately and eventually changed the audience into public early this year. While reading the message, the ambiance triggered my inner melancholia, but no point that it was depressing or deadly, but like positive sadness (was that a thing?) .

The message was full of flashback from our college years. From my obsession to photography, my stage jitters, my friend’s expressions, our habits, laughter, appreciation (which I literally not aware of) was brought up by this sarcastically heartwarming piece of words.

My college years were colorful and fun. I got along with my friends mostly, we were seatmates most of the time and had a great access for small or even bigger talk. We were just typical and ordinary low key students, we intended not to join the bandwagon, the program or some school presented activities most of the time. Even the organization announced that “hey! It was required and you’ll fail if you show your disappearance”, we didn’t care. Things didn’t work to change us, the fact that we decided according to our likes and decisions from competitions in grades or group presentation, giving damnation was not our thing and flash news we passed the semesters. We were the chameleons that time, even we were in a not-super-low low key and not showing interest to EVERYTHING, we learned to deal with everyone. Like we could be paired to ANYONE and communicate with them tremendously without creating deeper level of emotion,”social butterflies” as one friend labelled. PERIOD. (cue for another blog)

Back to the melancholia that this chill is giving me, I wrote so many poems about the satisfaction that I get when it’s raining. This is like my happy pill, it never made me down or anxious, the mood is very therapeutic. The comfort I get from my blanket, the warmth that others get from coffee, the emotion you develop every time you found something, might be a toy, an old notebook or a taste of your old favorite preppy biscuit. The unexpected nostalgia that I enjoy and other may not is really delightful in every sense. It’s like walking under the moonlight with your unlimited fries, bottle of soda and nice damn music with someone you like, damn.

The longing for my past memories isn’t mean that I’m having a hell of life at the moment, that I’m depressed or shattered – disclaimer. It just always makes me realized what a great childhood I had, what a great relationship I cherished with people. I have no idea if there is someone who is experiencing the same way, that I could not leave all my fragments behind. But for sure if I’m the only person experiencing this to the whole neighborhood (which is impossible because everyone is sentimental, even our plants and my dog chuckie) I’m so greatful that I have this gushy side that appreciates small things that for some are useless and dead.

9:00 PM

10–JUNE-2018

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