I tend to gravitate toward sad songs, which is unfortunate since I suffer from chronic depression. A few tear-jerking ballads to start the day, great therapy. People tell me I bring this on myself, and perhaps it’s true. Do I wallow in self-induced misery? Maybe so. Since it’s what I know more than anything, this sadness, perhaps I seek it like a comforting blanket.
When I’m low and feeling blue I put on songs that only reinforce my loneliness. Not too bright really. Odd how the color blue is associated with sadness, like having the blues. Singing the blues. Doesn’t work with another color, try it yourself.
“My woman done me wrong, and I got a bad case of the greens.” See, it just doesn’t fit does it?
I’m rambling today, my mind fretting about yesterday, where a case of the blues led me to thinking about the bottle. That’s a bad train of thought for a reformed drunk. The idea of speeding up the day crept in from nowhere. I thought by numbing myself with a stiff drink, or two, the day would be easier. It was 11:00 am.
