Chiale

The weather is picture-perfect, the sun generously spills light across the windowsills, but inside there is melancholy, tinged with the sourness of hopelessness and the smell of yesterday's socks. Everything is annoying: happy faces, cheerful friends, even your own reflection, which seems to have grown tired of itself. But instead of drama, there is a chorus of whiners in unison: “cry it out, it'll make you feel better.” And indeed, there is a special comfort in this honest, almost therapeutic lament. When you can be boring, tired, imperfect - and not apologize for it. After all, sometimes the best way to get through the day is to just make it to tomorrow, sobbing to the rhythm of a cheerful chorus.