Why do i keep on writing melancholia before departure ?

I don't know whether this is the act of bravery or stupidity
The way the universe been sending us million of signs to ripped it all up
Yet we keep on continue to do things we are doubting about
Like to monkeys blinded by the thoughts of everything will be alright

Nothing is wrong. Nothing was wrong. And nothing is going to be wrong.

We keep on beleiving at least we should try. Or end it nicely (?)

But the way everything goes so wrong
Chaotic and misunderstood
It almost felt like mercury was in retrogade again
But this time it goes for a century

I might as well died in the air, hours from now
Or well have my heart felt to the ground
In the count of days

It's like a suicide mission
We are never will be ready to conquer
Yet
We still longing to find out
How does it feel
To be soulless and died