Pause for a strange commentary of sorts...

Having tasted the poverty end of this situation, I’ve realized that I have no choice but to direct much more of my energies to the attainment of artistic fame and fortune. I suppose that most people would find living in a village full of people struggling silently but desperately to merely stay alive would be anything but inspiring. But, some of the best art is created while wallowing in a cloud of filth and despair. Poetry, music, painting, the ones that really effect us are those born of misery and anguish. People like Van Gough endured unending poverty and suffering for the majority of his adult life, and a reminder to all those who take their art for granted, Picasso was not always a millionaire and that loneliness and uncertainty are as common to artists as they are to janitors and truck drivers, or anyone else whose working time is spent isolated in a self depreciating void.

Now, I apologize if this e-mail sounds overly self-important, but as Christian Slater profoundly stated in Heathers “I’m just feeling a little superior tonight ... let’s go get a slushy.” Unfortunately a slushy is not an option in this country ( no matter how hard you may sometimes pray for one), but let’s continue the commentary in this odd vein; isn’t having tasted a slushy (or slurpee) and then having your heart sometimes ache for it, better than not having tasted the syrupy magic at all? That has the potential to be a profound metaphor...
Who is the happier person, one who has daringly braved the storm of life, tasting the slurpee, and living to their life to the fullest; or someone who has never braved the battle, the chance of failure and pain, the ‘brain freeze’ and merely existed without deliciousness?
I’ll let the reader answer that one.