why is it that i can only find inspiration on the cloudiest days? what about the days where i'm too busy to think? what about days where i don't get a moment alone? what about days where i'm immersed in my art? what about days where i have it all figured out? what about days where there's so much light i can't even comprehend darkness? i neglect my brightest days, only to be inspired by sorrow and stagnation.