There’s some good that can come from feeling down. The punchline to most jokes is someone getting hurt and if that’s your life, now you’ve got something to work with. If nothing bad’s happened to you yet, you’ll have to make it up, and that’s a lot harder.
And so the first time I got my heart broke, I took to the streets with my trench coat, Walkman, and a pack of smokes. I didn’t smoke, but it felt like the right thing to do, to hurt myself in small increments.
I internalized the lyrics from the sad songs, and made them my own: they were sung for me. Now, I write them for others who feel bad. It’s a kind of camaraderie, the blues.
A blogger friend commented on one of my posts this week, “Your posts are kind of dark…are you okay?” I was touched, and took it to heart. I wonder this too, when I keep playing the same dark, depressive music. Why I find myself standing in the back yard listening to an owl hooting high up in a tree, waiting to be heard.
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Bill Pearse 
Paragraph two made me chuckle.
I like your dark. It puts the your light in stark relief.
(And don’t use “stark relief”; it’s a cliche.)
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That’s rad man thanks…I like you like my dark and man I dig your humour. Check your mail in VT soon.
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loved the smoking for the sake of it – to hurt myself in small increments. i think life is a series of small increments, both up and down, strung together in a way we cannot imagine.
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Yes, good image and reminds me of a set of Christmas lights, trying to find the bad one or something
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I gravitate to the dark side too, although you probably can’t really seeing in my posts too often. Still, it’s there. I prefer to think of myself as just being more serious than most. If I laugh at a joke, you can be sure that the joke is especially good.
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I can’t figure out why people tend to the dark side, why we slow down for accidents…almost as if we want to be part of something real, larger than ourselves. Not sure, but interesting topic.
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