the history of melancholia includes all of us. me, I writhe in dirty sheets while staring at blue walls and nothing. I have gotten so used to melancholia that I greet it like an old friend. I will now do 15 minutes of grieving for the lost redhead, I tell the gods. I do it and feel quite bad quite sad, then I rise CLEANSED even though nothing is solved. that`s what I get for kicking religion in the ass. I should have kicked the redhead in the ass where her brains and her bread and butter are at… but, no, I`ve felt sad about everything: the lost redhead was just another smash in a lifelong loss… I listen to drums on the radio now and grin. there is something wrong with me besides melancholia.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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