There’s a certain beauty in sadness that I think is difficult to fully appreciate when feeling content.
I find myself, when feeling down, really appreciating the softness and kindness and gentle nature of the things and people around me and trying to radiate the same. Maybe it’s because that, biochemically, is what I’m drawn towards at the moments in question, or maybe I just notice it more. It could be that those things just get overlooked or rushed past in the normal daily reality of a productive, fast-paced human being. For whatever reason, it’s a strangely alluring phenomenon. Not entirely healthy, probably. Just… comfortably softer, like an old blanket I can curl up under.