Hues of Life

Please teach me how not to reach the stage where I start looking for ways to vent out my frustrations and so think of writing. I mean it's ok if writing is always there, when I fell happy, joyful, peaceful and not just when I have no other option in this “civilised” world (where you run the risk of being called mad if you start screaming out of turn).

Also, I want my writing to inspire the world, not make it worse. Anyways, if you are one of those who are looking for some inspiration, please do not continue to read this post. This is going to be a rant. Those who can empathise, please join.

Is this life experience divided into happiness and frustration?  Why does it seem that there is no way out of this vicious circle? I, for one, am a sucker for it (not intentionally, obviously). I seem to attract them in turns pretty fast. One day it's high up where I see the sunlight, the clouds and the lovely birds singing. And then the other where head is buried inside the pillow, no sunlight, no birds – just gloom. And then there are these in-betweens which tend to lean more towards the darker side of human emotions.

Is it so difficult to sustain the lighter, happier side of life, or is it me?