Resurrection and Prozac
Ok so I don't know if I can say that my blog NEEDS a resurrection since I've only neglected it for a few months, but that's what we'll call it anyway. However, I'm serious about repenting of my deadbeat ways this time, especially since I am the proud new owner of a lovely shiny hp laptop. And I love it...so take that mr. computer geek at best buy who told me it was too cheap and a piece of crap. Thus, I believe I will be taking advantage of my new hardware and channeling all that untapped creative energy into the blog. I think it might be time for a new layout as well. So, you have that to look forward to.
Anyways, on to the important stuff, like my rambling. I started classes again this week (no I haven't graduated yet, it's a touchy subject so don't ask) and have thoroughly enjoyed some of the discussions brought up in various classes. In my Romantic Period lit class my professor quoted something that I haven't been able to get out of my head for days now, and it goes something like this:
Prozac was the worst thing that ever happened to English literature.
Profound stuff eh? Well, at least I thought it was. When you start to think about all the literary giants, it's pretty standard that they had prolonged bouts of depression and even insanity. In conclusion, Prozac has retarded the production of quality literature in our day. And a sad day it is. So next time you're having a case of the blues, go to paper instead of the Prozac and bleed all those feelings out properly.