The entire day felt blanketed by an ominous air of sadness today. Even the trees that reached their branches in the sky looked gloomy, so much so that I snapped this picture on the phone this afternoon as I was walking out of the library. It rained a little bit, but the rest of time, the day was gray, a tone of that color which had not a hint of warmth to it.
Perhaps the entire surrounding led me to feel like I’m on a downturn, so it’s really nothing to be concerned about. But looking at this tree made me wonder if my depression stems from something that is a part of me, something that I cannot get rid of. I have received all sorts of treatments, but can an illness that’s embedded to myself actually be controlled? Regardless of what I do to try to be rid of it, I feel like the sadness will somehow find a way to exist–like how looking at this tree can evoke that emotion, as if this darkness is in the personality of that tree. I feel like I’m fighting something that will never go away.
But then again, if I took this picture of this tree again at any other time (like when the day is all sunny and blue), I probably would have described the tree to be displaying vibrance and a sense of joy. If that’s the case, can we ever really ascribe a ‘true identity’ for anyone? Do we all have some sort of an identity, or a character, we’re born with, or do we start out as blank canvases?