I don't know where to begin. Ironic, isn't it? How writers are supposed to spit out words with symbolism-- but we all say things we don't mean? How artists can draw an idea, yet draw conclusions? I find it ironic. Quite funny, actually. History repeats itself. It's a concept of uniformitarianism. What happens now, will happen again. Love, hate. Building, Destruction. Peace, war. A lot of people say what I write is dark. That I am some kind of monster, hidden under words. Am I trying? Am I trying to convince you to hate me? Am I trying to convince you that I am insane? Some radicalist you should throw in jail and kill? No. I am a human just like you. I am confused. I am alone. I am afraid. I don't know where to go next. It's devastating, okay? So stop with the messages. Please, I beg you. I deserve a smidge of respect. But again, uniformitarianism, this will all happen again. Maybe not to me, maybe to some other artist. Actor. Writer. Lover. So stop. Because uniformitarianism hurts all of us.
Merci pour la lecture!