the lovely room is sad




"she finally realized that the loud noise of her laughter that echoed for hours in the huge living room and made everyone who heard it smile silently was simply the tears that she hid, and even ignored, for years from everyone else, including herself. after reading her diary, she recalled hearing her sobs deep into the night when she thought everyone was asleep. but she was wrong. she was awake. but she was too young to realize what was going on with her life. too afraid of the dark hallway to get out of her room and knock on her door. how she wished she did. how she wished she tried to listen to her when she was older and could therefore understand her more, instead of just dismissing her outright as a "drama queen." how many times did she have these thoughts-- what else would make her sad? she was living her dream, everyone's dream. wasn't that enough to make her happy? but now that she's dead after jumping down from the rooftop of her thirty-storey apartment building, she finally recognized her sadness, the depth of her miserable, empty life, that was, ironically, reflected in the shadows of her own."
-- from an unfinished illusion by mahatma gandah.

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