I'm Happy, Damn it!

I read this today:

Neither upon down
Nor under coverlets, men come to fame;
Without which, he who runs his course of life
Leaves of himself on earth the selfsame trace
That smoke leaves in the air, or foam on water.

That's Dante, folks. And it happens to be true, what it says. Lacoste was good for me artistically, I think, because there was no activity "under the coverlets" as Dante says. Although it is sappy to say, but inspiration does really come from solitude and/or misery. Successful artists are like rich people, seldom are they truly happy.

This is my excuse for not working so damn hard on my art - I'm just too goddamned happy. Marigold is too good to me. She makes me giggly all over whenever I see her. Also, I happen to have luck enough to receive her smiles in return. I don't know what I did to deserve her, but I found what most people search their whole lives for. And she takes away my drive to search for anything more.

This is me complaining about being happy. Maybe there's hope for me as an artist yet.