Ah, another day, another stream session of Deviantart's seen and famous, or unpopular and unforeseen works of art. If that's what you want to call them nowadays. Art, images, whatever, I don't really care much about it at this point. If I like it, I'm going to fav it, whether I comment on it is up to me. I mean, I'm not going to go to all the trouble of going to every image I've faved and then say 'I like it'....maybe I'm just being a slight misanthropist, bit lazy as usual... but hey, whatever.

The more I look into the box we call the world, the less creativity I begin to see. I mean, music, art, movies, writing, the careers of creation are slowly falling apart the more we try to get into it. Please tell me I'm not the only one who thinks this. Eventually we're going to run out of ideas. Everyone's going to want to do something original, but that's eventually going to run out due to the simple fact that we all trying to do it, millions of people. Something that Mr.Hide-Patten [link] here can possibly agree on....judging by the melancholy demeanor he seems to pride himself with when he's typing up his journal.....And this agreement is only an assumption, so call me an ass if you want if I'm wrong, cause that's practically what I'm making myself....
I mean whenever I see his journal I never suspect there to be good news, even when he does make his work. And it's very good work, but his modesty kind of gets me peeved, trust me, if he saw my work, he'd switch his modesty to egotism faster than Billy Mays' can sell Oxy-Clean after his death. That's right, I went there, rest in peace Billy.

It's so funny how creativity is so fragile. Everything has to be perfect for the artist, or his entire mojo can be turned around by the smallest of ordeals. Example: I was in my room, and I grew the urge to play my guitar, so I plug it into the amp and start playing, and then in an instant, before I could open up my creative, sloth-like brain, my father storms in.
"Grandma's sleeping, don't be playing with your guitar in the amp." First off, there's no way you can play an electric guitar without it being loud, or it's just going to be a bunch of silly twanging sounds...there's no fun in an unplugged electric guitar.....or a bass for that matter. Have you ever tried hearing a Bass Guitar unplugged from an amp!? It's like a deaf guy trying to hear sign language, it's terrible. Ultimately I obey his sizable stature and authority, and I'm bummed out knowing I can't play my guitar the way creativity wanted it to, so I'm already off my game, off my mojo. But then, I see my grandma, walking out of her room, just passing by nonchalantly. My dad figures it out pretty quickly, "Nevermind, you can keep playing." He says....unfortunately the boat has already come and gone when he interrupted the first time.

Now I'm not sure if it's just me, but When someone tells me not to do something I want in such a serious tone, and then quickly changes his mind out of the blue, I just can't find myself doing the task that I was told not to do in the first place. It just annoys me how someone thinks they support something so strongly and yet so easily gives up on it in an instant. It just gets me so damn peeved.

Man, why do I even bother with these journals, nobody's going to read them until I make deaviants and then create a nice looking background for the journal which will get people to think I have some sort of importance.....or maybe there's a monkey somewhere, going through experiments in a secret underground cave in China somewhere. Where they send monkeys all throughout the internet. And one of them comes along Deviant art, conveniently coming across the one deviant that I edited on paint. And then....they'll go to my journal by mistake and start randomly slamming down on the keyboard, and then it presses the enter button, and his comment will read:

Queen:
Both here and hence pursue me lasting strife,
If once I be a widow, ever I be a wife!

King:
'Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me here a while,
My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile
The tedious day with sleep.

Queen:
Sleep rock thy brain,
And never come mischance between us twain!

Hamlet:
Madam, how like you this play?

Queen:
The lady doth protest too much, methink

0__________0.........Hey, you never know, it's random slamming, it could happen.......