MELANCHOLY

Here's a rather simple word, but above all a little sad.
It reminds us a little of our past and what we thought were "the good old days".
One tells you we've got a black mood supposedly coming from the spleen. Why, I have no idea. But it's safe to say that it's a vague sadness, with no definite cause.

The question would be: What makes us melancholic?

Saying goodbye to someone you won't see for a long time already causes melancholy. The idea of this prolonged absence already causes sadness, however small it may be. How can we overcome it?
Yes, melancholy causes pain. Suddenly, our memories disappear, like the momentary disappearance of a star when another interferes in its path. This disappearance appears as a failure, momentary though it may be, and our wish is that this dreadful melancholy will disappear, that it will quietly go away.

Victor Hugo had a rather curious saying: "Melancholy is the joy of being sad". He's right in line with my original thought, whereas for others, it's an illness that consists in seeing things differently. I just remembered a  French song that goes: "Si tu t'appelles mélancolie" (If you call yourself melancholy) and I don't think I understood it properly.
Perhaps we should sometimes add a touch of melancholy to our pleasure. That would make it a little more pleasant. Someone told me that melancholy is despair, and I disagreed with that person and replied that sometimes memory needs melancholy.

Can we imagine a world without melancholy? I doubt it, because melancholy is part of our lives, and what can replace it? Would we miss life without it?  Perhaps humor would help us get rid of it. I'd say that pleasant, often satirical irony would help us to distance ourselves from the funny and unusual aspects of reality. In other words, an unusual character would help us get rid of it.

And now Baruch Spinoza has joined the fray. He once said that: "Gaiety cannot be excessive, but is always good; melancholy, on the contrary, is always bad". How can we find a remedy? To rediscover each day our generous nature? Immerse ourselves in the simplicity of a garden? Accept the world as it is? I think I'm going to stop thinking that melancholy disfigures reality. I'm going to accept it.

I'm not disgusted with life. Melancholy isn't so black to me. I had the misfortune to give my neighbor the power to upset me. I'm going to remedy that right away and make melancholy an old friend. And I'm convinced that I'll come to believe that it's not a bad thing and that perhaps it will bring me greatness of spirit.

I say this after reading what a certain Maurice Toesca said: "There's enough poison in melancholy to kill a man". That's rather exaggerated, isn't it? I just found a quote that  I will use as a conclusion. It's by Anne Baratin: '' Memory needs melancholy to have all its perfume.