A Sweet Sadness

Duality is a common theme in just about every type of art you find. Classic literature has Jekyll and Hyde, a story of a man who becomes a monster (which inspired the story of the Incredible Hulk, not surprisingly). Many paintings show things as they feel rather than as they are, for those two can be entirely different things. Modern dance surely has something to say about the subject, but I can't begin to have the slightest clue what it is. This is especially true in the world of comic books though. Every other character seems to have a secret identity or a dark side or a Bizarro version of themselves (or all of them). A certain type of bipolar seems to come with the territory of superpowers and for good reason.

Spider-Man gets his great powers, but he's left with great responsibility. Superman gets to be virtually indestructible, but has to hide inside another "everyday life" to get any peace. The Incredible Hulk can summon the greatest of power, but he can lose control of it.

This all brings me to the problem, as the title suggests, of the sadness I seem to possess. I've known for as far back as I can remember that I'm just not as happy as everyone else seems to be. I know a lot of this is perception and the grass is always greener, but I do feel that I carry a weight that keeps me down. It literally makes me crazy sometimes, or at least makes me think I am. There should just be a way to let it go.

Except that I cannot deny that it is this weight that helps me to write.

I don't mean that in any too dramatic way (though I did offset it from other paragraphs to give it some purposeful weight). I just mean that a lot of my ideas, even the basic instinct to write has come out of some kind of pain.

That's a troubling thought to have. It's a little like Nathaniel Hawthorne's "The Birthmark." If I remove this one troubling feature, what else will I lose? And what would I actually gain?

Well, more happiness, I suppose. But that seems like missing the point. We all possess within us certain dualities. It is while we consider these problems that they actually are. If we embrace them, they become a necessary part of us.

Though the other part of me, the non-poetic side, is currently disagreeing. Such, I suppose, is the nature of this duality.