it isn't good to think of sadness as beautiful, i think. a lot of people do it. a lot of art does it. but i think, if you romanticize your own suffering, it only serves to encourage you to remain in it. you start to appreciate the sadness and so you feel less compelled to seek out happiness, or to root up what's causing the pain. of course, that's just what i think. i'm no psychologist. or whatever.
but sometimes, it just overtakes me. that wave of cold empty that just sneaks up and pulls all the heat from my body. the chill that ices my fingers and shivers my skin. the fatigue that slows me down, physically, mentally, wearing my brain down past the point of thought. it hits me, and i let it. and it pulls me down and down into this deep, dark, self-perpetuating darkness.
and that's where the beauty is. when you're so tired, so low, that all your defenses fall away. you can't pretend not to be feeling this way, your body and mind have surrendered to the empty dark. and it's a world of pure emotion. beyond words, trapped in this void, the dark becomes briefly illuminated by faint flashes of other feelings. deep in the cloudiness there's blue lightning, and pink, and orange, each its own wonderfully concentrated emotional experience, but one that gives shape to the void. you get to know the void, and you feel you get to know yourself.
when you pull yourself out of the void of feeling and color you feel so connected to that pain; you understand it, you know it, and it's still there. it's still part of you. i think it makes me feel like i have some knowledge of what to do next, because i know what's wrong. but it doesn't. all it makes me want is to feel those emotions so clearly again. it just makes me want to hypnotize myself.
so i don't think the idea of "beautiful sadness" is a helpful one. but it's one i feel a lot. it's one i'm feeling now.