The final note that corresponds with the last word of ‘does whatever a spider can’ is broken, letting the incomplete melody haunt the air with spidey’s unfulfilled potential
Christmas decorations in an office or classroom when you return in January
slow ebbing of lifeforce, go wrinkly, discarded by uncaring world.
the balloon is people
let me up the sadness on this one: old Christmas decorations at a parent’s house where the kids have flown the nest and the parent(s) doesn’t/don’t really do Christmas anymore (Christmas normally happens at one of the kids’ places), but maybe put(s) them up as a token thing.
A single child’s glove or shoe on a railing or low wall
just stuck this on. bit annoyed that the original cheap pathos has now gained a bit of nostalgic emotion too. the fuckers.
Having seen all the kitchens in the kitchen thread, I now have to conclude my kitchen is a ‘thing that is inherently sad’
Yo, I can add a sad cherry on top of that - some of the decorations were made or bought by their long-gone parents, just so the fleeting nature of existence is absolutely manifest!
My parents’ Christmas tree is basically a shrine now - there’s decorations from the 40s/50s, some that my Granny knitted etc, other’s that have associations with dead pets…it’s a motherfucking melancholy thing! A testament to waning hope. Shit, now I feel sad.
Fucking birds in cages
Dog-eared missing pet posters attached to lamp posts.
Where is Sox? What happened to him? Did they find him? Is some poor kid still moping around, hoping their little mate comes home?
Erm, by which I mean keeping winged birds captive in cages. Literally the fucking saddest. Imagine having such freedom curbed my some human twat for no real reason. Urgh.
any animal in a little cage but yeah, a bird in one of those tiny cages especially.
also farm animals
ooft. that’s almost music box levels of sadness. throw in a partially broken decorative Santa with a wind-up music box element, maybe?
Christmas in general. Meet a load of old acquaintances you realise don’t have anything in common with any more in your home town, experience nostalgia for lost youth, or alternatively bitter memories. Having something hyped massively, which is sort of fine but normally just passes with a whimper and drops you right in the depths of winter with fuck all to look forward to.
Not even a Christmas hater but I find, among some good things, there’s a lot of sadness and melancholy involved for what’s supposed to be a big party
Bag of chips dropped on the ground