Writing is for the unhappy

Writing is for the unhappy people of this world. It is for loners, depressives, the miserables and the tortured. Happy people cannot write. The contended would rather program instead.

But if nothing is right in your life, and even the weather is oppressively cloudy, now may be the right time for you to write a novel. Who knows? You may just end up writing 'Crime and Punishment' - at the very least though, your inability to write one coherent paragraph will uncover vats of mirth and hilarity, you never realised were stored up in your soul. And outside it will begin to rain.

And is not the sound of falling rain a wonderful thing? It means that tomorrow will dawn bright and sunny and cloud-free.

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Dorothy Parker's reason to live

In reference to the last post, when one is being suffocated by pressing darkness and mists, it can seem like a good idea to let go and wake up to the incredible lightness of non-being. But how exactly to let go? Many a potential suicide has been thwarted on this point, as Dorothy Parker pointed out long ago:

Résumé
Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful; You might as well live.

Read more Dorothy Parker:

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Season of mists and yellow wistfulness

The sun shines fiercely outside, yet it is not too hot because it has been raining most of this summer. But despite the sometimes cloudy sky, the world outside is bright and clear.
Yet not so inside.
Inside it a season of mists and darkness, the fruits are rotting before ripening. The blog-tree is dying too. Needs a little cheer, needs a little sun, to blossom into the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.

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