I have nothing. I have everything. I am a pessimist, and an optimist. I hate more than I love. But I love the inanimacy of the everyday more than I hate. I do not pride myself on having been through the worst. I don’t want to hear about what happened to you. I know no one cares what’s happened to me. I am indifferent. I am so feeling it stirs me awake. The world is too cruel. The world is so full of love. I will go to hell. But for the right reasons. I am all-consuming. I let everything consume me.

Burn my books, throw them in the trash, take down my paintings, rip up my drawings. My goal is to create art so impactful that it is destroyed because it exists. And everyday I try to love. Everyday I fail in everything but myself. This love I hold, I’m afraid, is not meant for humanity. It is bigger than that.

And you wonder why, despite your efforts, bad things continue to happen. And I said it is because good people attract the worst because the worst sees it as a challenge. And you said that that’s not the way it should be. And I said I know. And you said that bad people should find bad people. And I said maybe we should be bad people, just once. And you said no, because then you’d end up in hell. 

And that was that.