Me too, Stripe. Me too. It's been a week.
Sometimes, things pile up.
Emails. Notifications. Expectations. Responsibilities. That one weird thing you said three days ago that your brain has decided to replay at 2am forever.
And eventually, something has to give.
That’s where Scream Day comes in.
Not in a dramatic, world-ending kind of way— not through fear. Just a good, honest, get it out of your system kind of scream. The kind that clears a bit of space. Blows out the cobwebs or whatever is lying around that needs to go. The kind that reminds you you’re still in there somewhere, under all the clutter.
Catharsis. Simple. Effective. Slightly alarming to bystanders. So maybe try not to involve bystanders.
Now, in gremlin terms, this process looks… different.
Got alarmed when the kettle screamed back. (He's a bit slow about brew making, is our Stripe)
Then, he decided to process his emotions through art instead.
What followed was a deeply intense session of creativity. There were zero happy little anythings, never mind trees.
The result? A slightly unhinged painting of a screaming figure—equal parts existential dread and “I knocked over a cup and now everything is worse.”
Thick brushstrokes. Loud colours. Absolutely no restraint.
Total Munch ripoff but hey - he gets points for not painting the dog or the offspring. I'm calling it a win.
The gremlins gathered, inspected, collectively discussed the finer points of expressionism, and declared it “very calming.”
We apparently define calming a little differently.
So whether you scream into the void or paint it in aggressive swirls of colour, the point stands:
Get it out.
Preferably before it turns into something louder.