melancholy me? lackadaisical. what i'm feeling right now as the nth time i've been unable to go to sleep at a reasonable hour and am instead blathing my fucking brains out... hmm... brains... i'm hungry... 991124 ... spikey-ho *sigh* 991231 ... amy robot 1 looks sad and dejected, looks up at robot 2, standing in front of her. robot 2 soothes and tells her the truth. robot 1 smiles, and robot 2 reaches out her hand, spreads, tenses the fingers. 000207 ... lovers lament turning cold again. will it be november or december this year? the time when i begin to lose myself. the time when the blood begins again. cutting. dreading this. happy for so long, but it's turning cold again. 001121 ... cheer-up-emo-kid ...and the infinite sadness 020515 ... ever dumbening afternoon sun spills onto warm, well-starched linen tablecloths. unpolished silverware does not wait, does not care. the border of high and low brings an insistent, almost aggressive wind. grit and paper and eucalytus leaves pour horizontally across the freeway; one is mistaken for a reckless seagull. no speed, no volume, no amount of sunroof is quite right, but the dark echo-laden guitar work of Nick McCabe sinks in fast, to the point of saturation. i drive on. a peninsula neighborhood tastes of childhood. and though i know i'm lost, i continue, smelling the shifting light and dust and falling twigs. olives and cheese uncut await their fate. 020608 ... ever dumbening The angle of incidence is equal to The anger of refraction. But when the warm, bourbon-sweet darkening of melancholy Enters the room, and shines its false light on you, There is only embrace. The heat from the vents tangles with the cold from the windows. Peter Gabriel's new album radiates from the speakers, mirroring the thermodynamic chaos. The wax wind, A softer vector of scent, Pushes jade and vanilla deep into me As another bone breaks and repairs itself. 021029 ... Daria to me melancholy is a comfortable sadness. quiet and tired. My usual mode of mood. a sort of drunk feeling. 021029 ... ever dumbening the rhythm walks across the hardwood floor, around the walls, insistent it floods me: a too-fast poured ale in a too-small glass, inevitably even sun-soaked lands have their winter. it creeps in, lest we should notice and protest and fight the internal train's rusty wheels disobedient, ignoring the steam's push 021206 ... niska i've been missing home lately - that's all... he just doesn't miss it as much, so he doesn't understand. 030408 ... birdmad hands in pockets and sunglasses on walking next to the traffic and into the sunset i look up from the low angle of my gaze long enough to be sure the path is clear. Another long day done, a little up, a little down. 030408 ... User24 no, no, go not to lethe 030410 ... DFG happiness 030411 ... j_blue tried looking up melancholy, melancholics, on google whatever starting to suspect my own tackiness self destruction is it really the end? 030719 ... ashmanzhou a desperate soul torn between life and blade but she doesnt know what makes up this hate she feels now shes cold but fallen so far from dreaming to this indeterminate fate of hate of pain she feels so insane but she cant move away today she stays on forever immired inside this meloncholy day 030719 ... Whitechocolatewalrus I loved your poem ashmanzhou, it seems to describe me, although I'm sure it wasn't meant to. 031108 ... Whitechocolatewalrus Someone once asked me how I was today (on a day that wasn't this day, but it was a day) and I replied "I am meloncholy" They gave me the strangest look and said "That's good, I guess" and walked away. 031108 ... lovekilledlove grey 050102 ... Eraserhead Is the ideal state of existence in an imperfect world. Making a high out of a low by reveling in an atmosphere of resigned sadness. Sadness without despair, terror, or anxiety, you allow your existence and play the fool willingly and often with pleasure. 050124 ... oldephebe On 10/29/02 ever dumbering wrote The angle of incidence is equal to The anger of refraction. But when the warm, bourbon-sweet darkening of melancholy Enters the room, and shines its false light on you, There is only embrace. The heat from the vents tangles with the cold from the windows. Peter Gabriel's new album radiates from the speakers, mirroring the thermodynamic chaos. The wax wind, A softer vector of scent, Pushes jade and vanilla deep into me As another bone breaks and repairs itself. ---------------------------------------- F-ing amazing man ... 050124 ... daxle face down in the water too sad to move 050124 ... ever dumbening thanks, oE. for me there's a huge difference between melancholy and depression. the latter is gladly no longer who i am. and i certainly don't seek out melancholy, but there is something uniquely embraceable about it, a temporary refuge. to me it's sort of dingy and warm—an old austrian barn from childhood, maybe, broken slats of light, dust, dry straw. 050125 ... ever dumbening more cool and damp and sweet today than usual. a yurt, a walk and talk, again the shifting light. the fog at bay, at the bay, though its essence hangs from unnamed trees and swells the blackberry drupelets to an infinity of points on continua of tart and juice and hue-of-bruise and floral. dreams are knocked around, strained and strengthened. and then tires tear through inches toward their end, while the sun, now gone, still puts a rose-glow on the silver and grey leaf shine of the passing bart train. 050911 ... ever dumbening epilogue how then are there times where i think i'll never see its hand again? could it be the european taste's encroachment on the day that brings the dulled knife-edge pressure back? 050911 ... ever dumbening Forty-eight hours of tight achy dis-ease; Three hours of color-splashed Kurosawa, a king's madness, a kingdom's decline; Five hundred milligrams of this and that pulsing fever dreaming; And an infinity of waves, crumbly, somewhere on the coast of somewhere, as seen through glass—warm inside, cool outside. 060323 ... australian highrise didyouknow that I lovehate you? yes, I do let them coincide. next to each other. fighting for hold. teenage angst? naah. [nv] though in the wendy's fast food place, we all got a little melancholy. sitting under buzzing florescents and fake vines and muzak and cholesterol that's clogging our arteries for a quick passage to an early death. like taking the train of doom instead of walking, just because it looks easier. 060612 what's it to you? who go blather from