It's one of those mornings. I'm not hungover. In fact, I'm well rested and sober, but I wish that I wasn't. There's no quick explanation for the way that I'm feeling, no quick excuse, and no quick fix. It's simply one of those mornings.


These days, I usually meet the morning light head on, but not today. I pull the drapes over the window and remain sickened by the light playing its way through the cracks left behind by the inefficient shade. 


Then I fall back asleep.


But it doesn't hold. I reawaken a short while later in worse mental shape than before. The minutes turn into an hour as I blindly scroll through social media in search of escape. Then I give up. I might as well pull myself from under the covers and try to force some kind of day from this rough start. 


At this point, I know coffee, conversation, and quality time with friends will fail in the face of my intrinsic desire to be negative. And my friends certainly don't deserve to be subjected to such things. So, I go at it alone.


I learned long ago to roll with it. For the most part, I've learned how to deal with myself and my oftentimes emotional shortcomings. There's no point attempting to force false positivity. 


Towards an underlying poignancy, I turn on a specific playlist - the kind of playlist all of us have - and many of us prefer. A sad, emotional, angry, reminiscent kind of playlist that allows me to wallow in my pool of self-depreciation. 


But don't get it twisted all you optimists out there; I don't hate myself - though admittedly don't obsess over myself either - I'm happy with the balance I've struck. I've come a long way. But still, there are simply those times when I just feel really fucking down. It's just one of those mornings. 


The weather isn't helping the cause. It's usually sunny here and was forecasted to be again today, but they were wrong. I engage in self-conversation about how they were wrong, driving deeper into a spiral of projected despair. 


It's addicting, the continued descent. It leads to deeper and deeper exploration of the darkest, but arguably most necessary corners of our minds. And that's why there's no fighting it. To do so would be a working against my very nature. And that would just leave to more drawn-out depression. So, I wallow to allow for the natural wallowing, to put a stop to the kind that is further and unnecessary. 


I get hungry. In fact, I think, maybe that's a factor in the sadness. From birth, none of us seem to ever outgrow, or rarely even mask, the natural position to be terrible versions of ourselves while hungry. 


My unfortunate lack for empathy or even bare recognition of importance in my current mind state usually leads to unnecessary expenses. I don't care. Nothing matters. Let's spend $30 on lunch.  


What a waste. It was good, but ultimately it doesn't help. It's just one of those mornings. 


I take a walk. Perhaps the weather has cleared or at least some exposure to the outdoors will aid in the effort to improve my mood. I walk past people who smile and say hello. I don't return the favor and instead uncoil the headphones from my pocket, looking for an excuse to be anti-social. I return to that same sad playlist. 


But, as the playlist comes to a close, something happens. The final song is some sort of new age synth ballad and my music streaming service rolls with the styling rather than the negative mood. 


I'm focused on other thoughts and don't consciously notice a shift in the underlying soundtrack to my walk about town. A lady smiles. I smile back. The weather seems less grey than before and I forgive the weatherman. It's a hard job. 


I turn up the volume on my headphones. 


I start thinking about how delicious my meal was and forgive myself for spending so much money on it. It was worth it. 


It's addicting, the train of positivity, acceptance, and forgiveness. It pulls me out of my selfish wallowing and opens my eyes to the life happening around me. Most importantly, it allows me reflection on the lessons the times of depression, negativity, and despair have taught me. I’m a better man for it. Better than even before the negative bout.


As the sun becomes angular and the light becomes yellow, waves of memory resurface in my mind as they often due this time of day. Childhood, summertime, warmth, friends.




I check my phone. I have a missed call and a message. I read it


Hey man, just scored some free tickets to a show tonight. You down?


Yeah, I reply. Let's meet for drinks first.


I walk into the restaurant and head straight for the roof. It would be a waste to sit anywhere else on an evening as beautiful as this. 


I find my friend posted up at a high-top with two beers and a hell of a view. 


"How was your day?" He asks


"Just one of those mornings."


"Well, this should turn it around for you," he says, fanning two tickets on the wooden table. 






Passion Pit. 


A charge of flashbacks from today's sunny walk fills my mind. The childhood, the summertime, the warmth, the friends. It was Passion Pit’s bubbly key strokes and childlike reminiscence that came on after my sad playlist. It was the music that shifted the course of my day. 


It's going to be one of those nights.  

Let Passion Pit turn your day around below