Trippin’ on Art

Since the school year started, I’ve had the chance to doodle more in class, and I’ve been terribly inspired by my boyfriend Travis’s art and daily doodles. I’ve also been looking at fantastic artwork on deviantART.com by some extravagant artists in my WATCH. World of Warcraft is certainly inspiring, along with my most recent religious studies and a joyful impending future, as well as the steadily increasing number of novels I’ve been reading and pondering, and the German language is beautifully enchanting! The smallest words–English or German–influence my imagination into a trip of ecstasy, and I can’t help but scribble my thoughts or emotions onto a sheet of paper lest I run my mind into a craze for deprivation of expression. Before this, I had shut my heart away due to moving several states away from Home in Pennsylvania, and I feel like I am just now getting it back again and rightfully recording its actions through images on paper. Life is going very well, and there is not an ailment in my life that could possibly overcome this most recent infatuation with art and love and religion.
The book I’m reading at the moment is for AP English: The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde It’s absolutely frustrating, but it’s a good book anyway. I would very much like to see Dorian Gray in a coffin, his once beautiful face destroyed by the icy hand of death and his malicious heart frozen as cold stone. Sybil Vane’s tragedy is heart-wrenching. I think I would simply grope for Dorian’s throat and shred it. Yes, he and Harry are the villians here!
But anywho, lawls.
Despite the nearly guaranteed side-effects of my Accutane (a pill I take daily to rid myself of this horrid acne) that the user will become depressed and have thoughts of suicide, I have never seen a happier episode in my life. Yes, I do have a history of depression and dangerously irrational thoughts, but now I ask myself how I could have ever been in such a mood. Of course, when one is in ‘such a mood,’ it’s nearly impossible to think of how to have ever been happy, often to the point of forgetting exactly what it means to truly smile. What predictable irony! Yes, woes plague me, cries in the night by those whom I love, terrors of death and betrayal and that morose feeling of nostalgia, but the depths of my most recent infatuations most certainly retreat those things to the back of my mind. Even when pondering my nightmares and thoughts of terror, I am inspired! A reconnection with my heart is certainly terribly pleasurable.
I wonder if this should be happening or not.
Isn’t it usually those things that are pleasurable that we should be oppressing?

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