|Shots! Shots! Shots | Photo take here.|
Why is loneliness so much more inspiring than happiness?
So so so much more.
Why is that?
...that when I am brimming with joy, I would much rather ramble and jump like a kangaroo than dig deep into my soul pockets and create something.. something worthwhile.
I remember back in grade school, I was a member of our school's literary club and I remember writing so many poems and prose and essays every time my best friend and I would fight, or every time I got bullied, or every time I'd feel like an idiot when I flunk a quiz after studying the night before, or every time I would I get scolded by my parents. These poems, at that time, were what I considered my best work. In fact, three of the many got published. In fact, those three published poems were key to helping pass the high school of my choice.
Why can't happiness do the same?
Why can't happiness be just as inspiring?
And why is it that when we're lonely, a hollow seems to form inside our stomachs?
In mine at least. A hollow that I want to fill with booze! And every time I do, every time I oblige, I still do not fill out the hollow. Why is it that the booze can never fill the hollow (me) in my stomach enough to let me surface out of loneliness? And yet, I keep drinking it, knowing all too well that it will not get better in the morning, that the hangover will only worsen it.
Lonely, lonely, lonely.