Blue days. Where would be all those art filled with raw emotions be, if it were not for blue days? Poets singing ballads? Philosophers making theories for comfort? Musicians strumming on guitars?
If it were not for blue days, there would be no hope, fighting for better times and growing to be stronger. If it not for those days, there would be no logical answers to a hopeless hope. An anger putting an end to a misery. And thus moving forward.
On this blue day, I wonder what would be the reason of my emotional amusement that had caught my attention for so long? Making me act all silly and watch myself stumble with words. Should there be a reason to like? Is falling for someone that difficult now?
Before I drown in the beauty of music, I wonder if I’m hiding behind the pretext of blues and finding reasons to run away than stand up and face the outcome.
But if it weren’t for the blues, I would be as good as dead today.
To my blues and many more…