🤔 While the pop music market floods with saccharine love songs and triumphant anthems, a lyricist (噪音侠) pierces through the façade with 《抑郁病》 ("Depression").

These lyrics construct a moonlit mental ruin—not as a cry for help, but as a meticulously designed metaphor, carving pathological specimens of modern psychological struggles through withered petals, rusted clocks, and frozen roses.

I. Architecture of a Wasteland: Poetic Alchemy of Pain

The lyricist rejects explicit declarations of suffering, instead building a "wasteland ecosystem":

“告诉桃花不必开了，我早已修建荒原”
("Tell the peach blossoms not to bloom—I’ve long cultivated this wasteland")
(Translation: A rejection of renewal, embracing barrenness as a chosen state)

“氧气灌进旧伤口，呼吸像碎玻璃划过”
("Oxygen floods old wounds, each breath like shards of glass")
(Translation: Physicalizing emotional pain into visceral agony)

These surreal images map the cognitive terrain of depression. When reality’s colors are forcibly drained, life itself morphs into a lexicon of pain. Psychological concepts like emotional numbness are transmuted into haunting beauty: “星屑止血” ("using stardust to stanch wounds") exposes how sufferers repurpose cosmic loneliness into survival mechanisms. The creator weaponizes artistic paradox: the darker the portrayal of despair, the brighter it illuminates universal fragility.

II. Silent Rebellion: Deconstructing Toxic Positivity

The repeated “他们说” ("they say") scalds mainstream platitudes:

“他们说狂欢能止痛，可回声比寂寞更刺耳”
("They say revelry numbs pain, but its echoes pierce louder than solitude")
(Translation: Hollow societal prescriptions amplify isolation)

“当欲望追不上时光，我干脆拆掉计时器”
("When desires lag behind time, I dismantle the clock")
(Translation: Rejecting productivity obsessions as self-preservation)

Here, depression becomes radical resistance. The lyricist invents a trauma grammar: “自动跳过的段落” ("auto-skipped paragraphs") dismantles choice paralysis, while “写错页码的小说” ("misnumbered novel pages") subverts growth narratives. These illogical expressions mirror the cognitive dissonance of depression—not a lack of answers, but the erosion of will to seek them.

III. Existential Altar: Carving Epitaphs in Ruins

The true power lies not in decay, but in the wasteland’s grotesque vitality:

“当野草漫过眼眶，就和风讨论自由的定义”
("When weeds drown my eyes, I debate freedom’s meaning with the wind")
(Translation: Finding agency in dialogue with desolation)

“没有春天的地方，荆棘也能站成碑文”
("Where spring never comes, thorns rise as epitaphs")
(Translation: Pathological states as monuments to survival)

The closing line “荒原正长出年轮” ("the wasteland grows rings") delivers an existential manifesto: depression sufferers may not crave salvation, but instead spend lifetimes tilling mental deserts—proving that even barren existence holds solemn, unorthodox beauty.

Lyrics as Psychological Archaeology

This anonymous creator wields metaphors like scalpels, dissecting depression into an artistic artifact. While the music industry mass-produces emotional Band-Aids, such lyrics detonate like depth charges: they remind us that some souls paint on wastelands, writing humanity’s most achingly romantic psalms with thorns dipped in stardust.

For listeners looping this song, it may signal a quiet revolution—when the first depression sufferer stops begging for spring and instead engraves their epitaph on frozen soil, the world must lean closer. These moon-soaked truths, though silent, echo louder than any scream.