Memoirs of Melancholy

Prologue

John Lennon was dying. Not in the literal way, but he truly felt he was dying.

Ink blots were scattered across his page. His hands shook as he attempted to describe on the paper how incredibly empty he felt.

Abandoned.

Afraid.

Alone.

Blank.

Broken.

Shattered.

Worthless.

There were millions of words that he could have used. But with tears blurring his vision and choking sobs making it hard to breathe, he couldn't comprehend a whole sentence long enough to write it.

He didn't make a sound as he cried. He didn't utter a single syllable.

'She's gone, you fucking idiot. Stop crying. Stop.' His thoughts weakly scolded him.

Once again, John Lennon had been left on his own.

And he was absolutely drowning.