Melancholy

Face up in the sky, tears falling as a shower upon the now gray looking nature. Tears not of joy, nor of sadness, rather of melancholy. Not even the dim sun can penetrate with all its glory through the endless thickness of gray ash, now circumventing our atmosphere. It's not a sad day, but we couldn't argue it was a happy one, it's a day were it's okay to let go of a tear, even if we don't know what we're crying for. It is an important day, today I and maybe some of all the humans on Earth were pondering about the angst that comes by merely existing. 

The faint image of the sun rising above the bad designed buildings, buildings that rise up far above street level. The sun looks almost as a mirage, and the very top of the gray buildings mix in a near homogeneous composition. The occasional sound of a passing plane distracts us from our tedious life, not a soul is seen in the street. The streets are dead, there is no way for us to glimpse our fellow humans, we are alone, prostrated against the mighty concrete giants. Yet, there is no sadness, no emotion, purely mechanized actions, as if we were robots. 

There is nothing to be seen, nor to be felt, nor to be experienced. There is nothing, nothing but our being, which is in turn also nothing.

How insignificant we may feel, it is truly a humbling scene, making us realize our troubles and sorrows, yet it is the perfect opportunity to face them with courage and stoicism. This type of feeling, of scenery is of no less importance than the one we receive gladly, like a sunrise or sunset, the beach, the sun rays melting with the golden brown beaches, the bright of the summer tree leaves, looking like polished emeralds, the path of nature and so on. It is to make us feel the often forgotten emotion of "melancholy" which is deeply important to the human condition.