someone said my blog reeks of melancholy

every blog is a bit of the blogger. the story may be made up, the verse twisted to suit the frame or the mood, the anger palpable or the indignation feigned, even. but in essence it is an extension of the blogger's real self. that makes melancholy, inertia, pleasure and pain inevitable. it is an effort to fill up the cosmos with debris, with the detritus of feeling that has been sapped beyond simple concepts like pain and bliss. it is a husk, a shell that has seen better days. it is an empty tin that's been stripped of passion. words that transmute feelings do that. that is what this blog is, will be. not empty rhetoric or mere letters bereft of a soul. this is an attempt at post-mortem. in the world of lightning-fast optic fibres, there is no right or wrong. it simply is, it exists as a miasma of thought, feeling and passion expressed in the best way possible. it doesn't mean the world is a trivial place for my sorrow. i think it is richer because of it, inspite of it. as my fellow blogger said, "everything happens for the good." maybe, in the long run. and i accept the pristine beauty of that concept. but as some witty economist observed," in the long run, we are all dead."