August 18th, 2018 by Inconceivable

Comfort is something we all strive for, right?

I’m comfortable when I’m sad. I can’t say I like being depressed, but there’s a certain quality to it that’s preferable to being happy. With pleasure there is always some persisting sense of unreality, to a point where it’s unsettling. Sadness is real, it’s a fixed position that I can trace through my actions and others.

I can’t say that happiness has ever offered me that.

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