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I have come to a conclusion, after mulling it over for a while, that happiness has been been cast off and melancholy embraced perhaps not because of the evil and dark being more beckoning, nor is it because of the naivety associated with joy, though perhaps this might be one, for effervescence is so often confused with gladness that it is no surprise that it is seen to be foolish, but because it has become now that stillness and silence are symbolic of melancholy, while happiness is characterised by permanent high-spirits. Contemplation and reflection are few things that bring inner tranquility, for many it is the source of peace. Thus for some any absence of continuous childlike behaviour becomes sadness and for the others any presence of natural laughter and to not always be lost in a maze of cluttered thoughts becomes immaturity. I’m somehow both of these people.