When I was assigned to do a report on Vincent Van Gogh for school, I wasn’t exactly jumping for joy. Then, I started to research him.
Turns out, the old dude ate yellow paint because he thought it would get the happiness to be inside of him. Yellow is a happy color, and it always has been. He thought that eating the paint would make him happy.
You obviously must be desperate for happiness to do that because the paint can damage your insides, instead of making them happy. But if you want happiness so badly, you’ll do anything. He ate the toxic yellow paint, only to have it hurt him and not help. It’s really not that crazy if you think about it. Back then, they didn’t know as much. Yellow is linked to happiness, so why wouldn’t eating yellow paint also be linked to happiness? It makes perfect sense.
I’m sure everybody has been at the point where they wanted to eat yellow paint, or their version of yellow paint.
Think about how depressed you’d have to be to swallow poisonous paint. It almost seems unreal that someone would put that kind of thing into their bodies, hoping it would make everything better, but really digging a hole so deep no ladder could help get them out.
The yellow paint – he wanted it to help him, but it did the opposite. Some might say it’s his own fault, but he wanted happiness. Can’t blame the guy for wanting happiness.