The joy is gone and the shadow has come. Everything suddenly lost its colour. Things that brought happiness became a burden. In an instant. Well, maybe it took a few days.

But nothing has changed. Reality hasn’t changed. That’s the most overwhelming part of it. The shadow that covers the mind, while the mind still knows that nothing has really changed. And the mind can do nothing with it. There’s no joy, there’s no hope, there’s no future anymore. There’s a dark cloud around the thoughts and the thoughts are dimmed. Darkened.

It lasts a few weeks. And suddenly it’s gone. Everything’s normal again and coffee tastes good. The next meeting at work is an opportunity to meet great folks and the bus is full of interesting people. The snow makes everything so clear and pure and innocent. The frost paints patterns on the window. And the tea, and the blanket and the plant in the corner of the room, everything’s so normal and beautiful.

Until it’s not. Until the meeting is a deadly threat and the bus is full of evil faces with nothing but bad intentions. There’s no tea and the plant is silently dying in the corner seeing no water and no love anymore. And the winter is soulless coldness killing all flowers.

And the cycle repeats and repeats all over again. It’s like a trap and feeling trapped is constantly present. There’s no escape. There’s nothing one can do. Only wait. When it’s dark even looking for help seems like effort beyond strength. When the shadow’s gone, there’s no need to look for help. And the cycle repeats.

When it’s here nothing matters, there’s only darkness, it puts its shadow on everything, and when it’s gone it’s time to rest and get ready, get prepared for the next time. It’ll come but one already knows what to do. It’s tamed and it’s known. What’s known seems less scary. But it can be more deadly. It isn’t wise to disregard the darkness.

And there’s emptiness. The pain is something, it’s an emotion, it’s the emotion, pain means feeling. Emptiness is nothingness. There’s no reason to do anything where’s nothing can be felt. Why does one should do anything when there’s only coldness and emptiness? Mechanically repeating actions aren’t life but they’re the closest things and they help to hide. They’re slow, and they’re cautious, carefully crafted moves that perfectly mimics the real person.

Nothing gives pleasure and nothing gives pain. Sleepless nights don’t bring solace or rest. Slowness takes over every gesture and every sentence and there’s only apathy. But there’s no sadness, there’s nothing and sadness would be something. When sadness comes, it’s over.

It’s not happiness that is the first harbinger of light. It’s sadness. Then there’s pain, and after pain there are tears of sadness followed by tears of relief. The last to be back is the purpose. When it’s here it’s time to do things. Time is limited and there’s so many things to do.

Life in fragments gives a unique perspective. Nothing teaches you to live like the touch of darkness. Shadow is the brother of light, and joy shines brighter against a background of gloom.

At least as long as there’s a balance between them.