sometimes, being miserable makes me happy

i'm just the regular fellow who needs a bit of misery. not to appreciate the good out there more, but really for the pleasure of it. i am not a masochist, just someone who enjoys a bit of misery. pure blues, deep and prolific blues. i can't even enjoy that, nowadays.

i miss rain. seems like it's difficult and abnormal to be blue when the sun is shining. i need rain to justify and feed my blues. i need seasons, they give meaning. one long summer + one short pseudo-winter barely classify as seasons. they are there to confuse.

i need seasons.

i need rain.

i need gray turning into green.

i need trees that blossom.

i even need the cold, the cold cold.

i love you, india, but this is not going to work out.

erm, it's not you, it's me.