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Angst Equals Great Art?

On the creative front: I’m asking myself about how and why one can derive creativity from angst or annoyance. This is interesting. I used to be able to channel any number of frustrations into creative work—I think it’s still possible, to an extent, but since my life, while still needing a lot of work, is broadly more tolerable than it was, say, two years ago, I find myself less creatively inclined toward using negative feelings in this way.

I wonder if that’s a good or bad thing? I suppose it’s good in most ways. Whereas when my life was truly down the toilet I could have used even a minor annoyance as a reason to write some dark, brooding, ponderous chunk of bile, I somehow don’t feel that need anymore.
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No Red Carpet…

The guy came to fit my carpet today. For those who don’t know, I’m currently in the process of trying to make a council flat about a mile up the road from my current (parental) home liveable. A slow and expensive process, although mom is helping out a lot. Anyway, Mr. Carpet Man, making idle conversation, asserted: ‘I had you pegged for a student.’ Interesting. I recently turned 32 and I didn’t even have my glasses on.
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