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 Happy Birthday. This time and always.  I find myself looking for you in all the wrong places. You and I have been walking for too long. Lets turn around. I want to go home with you.
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The Physiology of Sadness

At times life brings about moments that carry with them cradles of worry.

Endless problems tightly wrapped up in bundles yet carelessly held, ready to be dropped into the arms of the nearest passerby

In such instances, for those unlucky people moments turn into months - months into years - and years into lifetimes

The question then I ask myself is, what does a person who has been forced to shoulder unwanted misery look like? 

Or rather, why does he look like that? 

Because on contemplation I can imagine numerous people I have encountered, some close, others not, that have been distorted by the sadness that has consumed them whole, their bodies and their souls. 

They look different, they stand out easily in a crowd, they have a distinct perturbed flavor to their auras.

Each excessive line etched into their faces ready to tell a tale so profoundly misfortunate that a palmist might shudder. 

Such is the nature and the physiology of human grief. It displays itself unashamedly

And now I have lost my train of thought, and gratefully so, because this one is quite depressing. 

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