On My Writing

I have been thinking about why I gravitate toward the sad and disturbed in my writing. Is it me, or a combination of the movies, books and real world I have seen?
Do I feel hopeless about situations and unresolved feelings, so that when I set out to create a purely fictional character or story, that part slips in accidently with the result being unlike the idea I had every intention of perusing?

A brilliant man once told me you need to see the grotesque, and the sadness, in order to notice and appreciate beauty and happiness.

I don’t believe I am an overly pessimistic person, nor am I high on life all of the time. I’ve always faired somewhere in the middle.
Candice: the perpetual fence sitter.

It’s quite strange but I tend to go with what the general feeling is with the people I’m around. And then think oppositely. For instance: If I’m with a friend who is down and unsmiling, I will be the clown. And I’ll point out all the good things; I’ll be queen of the positive world view.
Now here’s where the weird comes in: as much as being around sunny people can lift your spirits, what happens sometimes to me is quite to the contrary. I’ll see that happiness, and delight in misery. Strangest thing.
Of course, it can go the other way too. Misery loves company, and happy-just-because moods are becoming harder to come by so when you have it in your grasp you hold onto it tightly and anyone around with their lip on the ground is not particularly welcomed.

I’ve come to realise it is how you perceive the world and all of the disasters and wondrous events it holds for each individual and all of us together as a whole.
So; on any given day, I could be feeling disappointment, enlightenment, suspicious, care-free, or maybe little pieces of all four emotions and this comes through in the words I write.

We all, after all, have various different sides and personalities inside ourselves. Who knows what character tomorrow may bring?