Hit me with a colourful ballsack

People always associate depression with darkness.
In the posters, the poems, the movies:
“the darkest time of my life.”, said they.
Instead, it’s a colourful ballsack.
I believe depression is anything but pitch black.
It’s the white of the wall they keep staring at or the filament yellow.
The tar black road or the dirty-shameless black shoes.
The flowing green in the shower or also when not in the shower.
The greenish-white of the abyss or, the red on that bullet.

Update one:
It is considered exemplary of an artist to get the feel of the subject.
I did.
It’s too colourful here.
I don’t want to leave.
I might never.

Edit one:
Those in the favour of euphoria, stop right here.
For I’m about to speak of – The broken structures of the world.
“Suits the theme of this world.”
Probably talk about,
the structure of the Good cop, bad cop routine;
Denial, guilt, anger, bargaining, depression and testing.
Pitted against the coffee-offering – acceptance.
Or about the structure that’s structured around
the pin-sized base of knowledge of ‘the other side of the veil.’
Around the prick-sized effort.
The structure of business.
Oh wonder! How broken we’d have to be
to sell sadness for gulps of the happy.

Final update:
Still not leaving.

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