Lately, things have been reminding me of how lucky I am just to be alive. (Michael is the sweetest boy I’ll ever know, his family loves me, and I love them like hell, peanut butter never lost its taste, summer is on its way and Angus Stone was once born …) Finally, i’m getting a chance to be a little sad, which I REALLY need sometimes. I’m not the kind of girl with dark thoughts, but feeling too comfy and happy kinda makes me empty. I just need that sadness, like it makes me grow or something. Now, doesn’t it hurt not to cry for a long time? Crying is something I need. Otherwise, I feel overweighted sometimes. Sadness inspires me, I guess. Considering myself an artist, inspiration is that one thing that makes me feel alive. Does that sound crazy?
