Because I'm Weird...

...Of course I have socks with Edvard Munch's The Scream printed on them.

I purchased this disturbing footwear (pre-pandemic) from the gift shop at the Peabody Essex Museum in Salem, MA.

What does this have to do with literary art? Nothing. But if you recall from my first post, sometimes I will touch on other subjects.

Now that I think about it though, many writers are moody creatures and/or have experienced agony in some form so I'm sure many of us have felt like the figure in The Scream. I probably looked like this on the inside as recently as last week: regret. self-loathing. frustration. jealousy. sorrow. ANGUISH.