This post lauds the amazing curative powers of surrounding one’s self in bright colors to enhance your mood. The potential for this to backfire is extremely high. If one has gone off the cynical deep end, bright colors only provoke thoughts about overripe fruit and American Apparel’s current it-doesn’t-matter-if-it’s-hideous-so-long-as-its-preposterously-shiny trend. (Seriously, check out this and this. Feel free to keep browsing, but be warned, so did Oedipus.)
For mild cases, a shade of pink as bright as the cover of Inga Musico’s Cunt (shameless plug, read it, it’s fantastic) should do the trick.






