How do you feel?

I have seemingly dropped in a pit of melancholy without the choly, from which my limbs can get no traction. I am not one to feel sad about much. In a recent "Bar News" described depression as anger without enthusiasm. Well I might be stricken with depression without sadness. Ennui, but without the exotic sounding charm.

I hate to say this but: The sooner this holiday is over the better. I can get start doing stuff with consistency. I will hand in substandard assignments and have to wait weeks before the "punishment" in receiving a grade.

Anyway, distracting myself for a moment, I was thinking about the depression of others.

Nuch of the modern music I listen to is often done by seemingly-depressed people. I cannot imagine Radiohead, Tricky, the Eels, Coldplay, Massive Attack, L'arc~en~ciel, Tool/Perfect Circle or TaoZhe producing a cheery song (David Bowie can though). There is real feeling there though. Not the unfortunately popular strains of pop you can hear to readily. Looking through the blogs of others, it is easy to see that there is a self-tormenting, dare I say it "artistic" bunch that like to wallow in sadness. Perhaps it does make for affecting words, music and art. I have a theory for this of course, although it is hardly original. To have a desire for greatness, people need to suffer. I think that is something I have lacked in my life actually. In the past though, there was plenty to be vexed by. Poverty or war and the like.

But those who have some desire towards experiencing and producing exemplary art (regardless of its form) need to delve into those things that can cause suffering in life, bring them close to mind, taking themselves into the coldness of life, and its natural vicissitudes, a strain of existentialism perhaps. Even from the comfort of modern life, there is suffering without pain, or with pain if they want to self-administer.

And hopefully from this hurt emerges a truly feeling voice or a simple expression of real expression and not the saccharine pipe-tune of some life "charlatan". Like me.

Probably real genius doesn't depend on the tempering one's heart with fiery coals of despair. It can emerge with force and passion without. But such tapped talent is rare. I cannot think of such. Or maybe all geniuses are destined to suffer a little which triggers them. Or maybe those talented who are not subjected to despair or self-brutalised are those that don't find an emotion on which to hinge their ability onto.

Either way, I am not seeking to be an artist of the kind that is recognised as an artist. I simply want to get some direction to overcome the inertia.