[ WP ] Dscribe depression in a contextless monologue .

The writers told me it would be black. They told me the darkness would hover in the background and extinguish my soul. 
 
 They were wrong. It was white. 
 
 Instead of a grim landscape sucking me in, there was nothing. I craved the darkness - something / anything to crawl into to hide. It never came. Thursday blended into Tuesday, loved ones' faces lost their features, and I learned that God says no. 
 
 There's no tears. No sadness. Nothing. Your mind becomes a sterile waste of space. 
 
 Writing ability? That leaves. A sick part of you gives a twisted smile at the blank pages of your diary. So appropriate. 
 
 Music. You have n't listened to it in months. 
 
 Fish. You're eating fish. You hate fish. You do n't care. 
 
 Then one Sunday morning, as the thunderstorm echoes through the city, you see blue. 
 
 Tuesday afternoon you buy an ice-cream and see pink. 
 
 Friday night you're at the club and the disco ball emits every colour you've ever seen. 
 
 You smile. You're going to get better. Maybe not today, but yellow is the colour of your taxi. Hope
