I think I am lapsing into one of those bloody moods again.

And why because of… Nothing.
Sleep holds no pleasure. Speak holds no comfort. Listening to happy songs makes it worse.
Even singing.
That unexplainable love never fails to lull my senses and numbs me into the beauty of the melody of creative minds that brings me into another existence of escaping.
I want to scream in it trapped.
Trapped within and I can’t get it out even if I scream it out. Out at the highest ever decibel.

Yet I choke and all I can do is whimper internal.
It hurts.
And why?

What happened? Is there something? Is there something wrong. The feeling that eats a perfectly sane person up inside. The person who knows it all too well knows there isn’t. The person knows perfectly sanity is intact and even more so than many.

Then why?
Is it better to live with nary a doubt in head, a simple happy existence. An existence where one feels the flowers, smells the sunshine, sees the wind, tastes the warmth and hears the delightful hum that is within.
That inside. That grants momentaty peace by blocking out light and dark. The solitude and emptiness. The Nothing.

And yet it was this Nothing that stirred up the pain. Have I been dwelling in this Nothing for external.
This external that is Infinity. And would not end,
Because even if it wanted to end it could not.
Because it is eternal.