Romeo & Juliet

Happiness stifles creativity.
Please make me discontent.
Rather, make it hurt.

I have taken to listening to death metal, in effort to stifle my current mood.
Blood sucking vampires shouldn't make me smile, but they do.
Seriously.

In all fairness, I suppose creativity hasn't completely dissolved.
Only been redirected towards work projects and school projects and
projects inside my head.
Apparently there is only so much creativity existing as a commodity
and it must be rationed and hoarded and hidden away.
Until of course, I come upon the means by which to purchase more.

I have never been a talented writer, painter, or artist in any way.
I am a creator of unoriginal ideas.
A replicator, a recreator really.
I dabble in mediocrity or so I tell them.

I think when people say they are inspired that they are really saying
I saw something, I read something, I felt something and I wish it
really belonged to me, but it doesn't and it never will but I will
change it and make it a little part of me.
Not saying that is all together wrong, terrible or unworthy.
It just is.