I don’t write a lot when I’m not sad.
Well, nowadays I’m just plain exhausted, but deep down inside, I’d say I’m happy.
Maybe it’s because I don’t see the point in writing about happy things anymore. There’s no need to. Your thoughts aren’t clouded, your heart isn’t shattered, your soul isn’t a massive abyss of despair.
I guess yeah, perhaps a memory. Occasionally. Just for keepsakes. I think I stopped writing about happy things quite a while back.
I just keep them in my heart, and in my mind. Maybe that’s why I write about sad things. To keep them out.
I still want to write a little here and there, I guess these things are neutral things.
As much as I would want to write a bit more, I can feel my brain shutting down and I think I really need to sleep before 2am