I’ve more than often had to hear about how my “obsession” with “dark” or “depressing” stuff is weird. A lot of people have said to me that I am addicted to drama or that I look for reasons to be upset about things just so I can write about them. Or that I just am depressed. I knew it wasn’t the truth and it didn’t even offend me because I never quite understood it myself as well. I know that when people say such things they aren’t trying to put me down or be mean in any way. They’re just trying to understand and frankly, so am I.
I think the only relatively subtle judgement I ever received on the heaviness of my words was when this woman, a friend of my father’s, said that I wasn’t sad but rather “SENSITIVE”. Now I know the word sensitive is open to subjectivity so I cannot use it to define my wholeness (besides every person is way too dynamic, writer or not, to be enclosed within the dictionary meaning of a single word but that’s a different blog post altogether). But I think she got it to a certain extent and I was just really glad; the fresh perspective filled me with an ethereal warmth I can’t really explain.
Well, what actually triggered this post is a lovely quote I came across today on tumblr-
“Excessive brightness drove the poet into darkness.”
..also, since I liked it so much, I’m not going to dissect it with my overindulgent analysis, rather I’ll leave it to your imagination!