And the source of this great hypothesis is a simple observation - every time I am distressed for whatever reasons, thousands of ideas raid my top-floor vacuum - for poetry, for blogging, and for activities I'd never get an idea of doing in normal times. And as the most obvious proof of this hypothesis, here I am - finished three poems two days ago and writing this blog at a time when I am supposed to be working some 86401 seconds per day.
Ouch!! I just increased my guilt by a factor of 24.09 (which incidentally happens to be my Quetelet Index Number).
Corollary:
Every time I am free and fresh like a flower (preceded by cauli) and I set out to write something phenomenal, not a single God damn flying fish crash into my mind.
P.S. - Distress is the Father and not mother of creativity because... give it a thought!!
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