To be sad......peacefully

It's rather strange how man remains to be the social animal who takes pleasure in forgetting things that bring him great sorrow, and end up smiling all the more when his heart flutters against his chest begging him to shed a drop of tear. The more he runs away from his sadness, the more he excels in his performance to keep the show on. A kick in the gut reminds him of his losses and he desparately gulps down liquor to burn it out. A memory must be a fond one. So has somebody said.... some crappy stuff like fond memories bring the light the other days around me.... But it needn't be so.... memories are most often a sad one. I do not overlook the contributions of optimism in my life, but all half glasses inevitably share the obviousness of being half empty. Must it be so?

Ahh... a man as I started saying is allowed this. Not a woman. She is not allowed to be sad. If she is, she is most reassuringly surrounded by a masculine arm promising her to guard her against all of this. In fact, the more sad a lady is, more appealing is her nature to a man. She attains a different level of affection in the eye of a man. He enjoys a secret adrenaline rush of being her knight-at-arms. Her Don Quixote!

Strange huh? ....but that's how it usually is. Yes, usually.