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My mood has been low of late.
I always wonder what it would be like if we all walked around with an aura of colours that would tell people how to tread if ever our lines intersected with theirs.
I always figured mine would be black.
Not black as in death.
Not black as in danger.
Black as in void.
As in – there’s no other colour there.

I am not moved, these days.
The laughs are LOL autopilot.
The smiles are practised civility and learnt people-skills.
The walk and the activities that follow are perfect deflections.

Do you see me?

Someone once said that you don’t need a reason to be depressed.
That’s the one thing, I think, that makes people miss it in those around them.

She had a car.
She had a house.
She had her family and her friends and money and movies and books and music and all her limbs and a job and her five senses –
And. And. And. And.

So how could she possibly be sad?
How did we miss that she was depressed?

Black.
That would be my colour.
Maybe, it would keep people away from me, such that they bend their lines so as to avoid mine.
But black.
Such that only the brave and the strong would venture with me.
Only the brave.
Only the strong.

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