Murk can be described as an enfeebled fog with a personality disorder; it is more troubled than ethereal, sulking moodily over our lives at the end of the day.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
In the same way that a mundane object can have a personality somehow, I try to suggest that a mundane setting can have some menace behind it.
I'm not a mushy person at all.
Like the character I played in 'Jekyll', we all have different masks we put on for different occasions. As much as we all want to lead decent lives, we're also attracted by the idea that something dark may lurk within us.
I think we all feel like weirdos for different reasons.
Another unsettling element in modern art is that common symptom of immaturity, the dread of doing what has been done before.
Fogs are like dreams that feed the soul, and without their mysterious embrace, childhood, courtship, poetry and the composition of music become all the more difficult.
If evil is empathy erosion, and empathy erosion is a form of illness, then evil turns out to be nothing more than a particularly awful psychological disorder.
Stuff that's hidden and murky and ambiguous is scary because you don't know what it does.
I call my life a beautiful mess and organised chaos. It's just always been like that. My entire life things have been attracted to me and vice versa that turn into chaotic nightmares or I create the chaos myself.
There are those whose own vulgar normality is so apparent and stultifying that they strive to escape it. They affect flamboyant behaviour and claim originality according to the fashionable eccentricities of their time. They claim brains or talent or indifference to mores in desperate attempts to deny their own mediocrity.
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