Melancholy by Toby Al-R

I took a pause and thought about the idea of depression, but I swiftly came to the conclusion that I and the idea are mutually divorced. I found inner peace long ago and I can’t seem to even remotely relate.

So I sat on my wooden mahogany desk, while resting my chin on my interlocked fingers; staring at a small statue of a stony Socrates face. It gazed back at me with its devious eyes and emitted to my mind gloomy visions of futuristic epochs.

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Melancholy by Manasi

Seas and oceans. Does it matter? It’s all the same anyway – the monochrome blue, the earl grey with a stain of sorrow, and the frothy slush that clashed against itself to cease into mist.

The cascading rocks, jagged to the core pierce more than the thin screen of her skin. Continue reading