I hate that pain is a source of material.

I hate that pain is a source of material. I hate it. I really (x2) do. But whenever something awful happens, I secretly relish too. “This is good! (very) Good writing material,” I say. (maybe someday it'll help me make a buck or two) And I mean it. I really (x2) do. I mean what I say. And sometimes I say what I mean. And I always try to be honest; (keeping in mind that you will someday get tired of me.)

I hate that pain is a source of material. I hate it. I really (x2) do. But whenever something awful happens, I secretly relish too. “This'll be good for the blog, I say. (or for a short story or two...) And I mean it. I really (x2) do. I mean what I say. And sometimes I say what I mean. And I always try to be honest; (knowing full well you'll get tired of me, too)

Isn't it ironic, that I am at my “writing best” when I feel at my mental worst?

Life is funny that way.