Miserable to make art.

You actually have to be miserable, really bloody down to make art, write poems that people want to read, and be creative. No one wants to read about how pink and fluffy your life is. People want misery, sadness, depression, fucked up relationships, drugs, everything that makes you want to scream and run a way. Isn't it so?

Sure it can be nice to look at a pink and fluffy painting, read a lovydovy poem and so on, but you really feel, relate, react to the miserable ones. You remember a time in your life or a feeling you have had, and oh la la, that you relate to the dark miserable painting of a child drowning. Alright, trollet admits, that might have been a bit harsh, but.. she is not in her best mood this saturday night. Even so frustrated that she chose to stay at home instead of filling the lump with alcohol. Maybe a smart choise to make once in a while. Who knows. Sure the lump is pink and fluffy tomorrow, right..