There is a complexity to the artist’s psyche that is paradoxical. It’s the nature of revealing. You are trying to be vulnerable to people who alternatively just don’t give a shit, those who want to see you fail, and those who might actually need some help. You’re doing it for the people who need inspiration…you would’t be doing it if you were OK. It’s the life process of finding out what OK is by putting yourself out there. Some people don’t try. I did it obtusely like throwing shit at the wall. You can learn a lot from the shit-talkers. If they were doing something, they wouldn’t be talking. But, they really have no use for you if you aren’t in their sphere. It’s a clique of self-importance. The true purpose of the art is for the traumatized to see hope through the horror – and then, finally – society becomes a thing that doesn’t create so much pain. We’re living in a post-apocalyptical aftermath. So, the extent of the losses and shame you face – is to be about as ruthless a cunt as possible and as soft a lover as to be found in history. Ideology is a ruse for desire. It’s about desire, and everybody wants to be the center of the universe. Except, if you don’t actually do anything – you’re just a shit-talker. So God bless the talentless. If I were you and just starting out – stick to science and don’t tell anyone anything about yourself. Try to learn not to feel. Anybody who’s trying to feel is looking for trouble. It’s hell. They’ll say you’re narcissistic. Not if it’s true. Not if you’re the real thing. And why? So you can be beautiful to HELP people, duh. We’re human beings not diamond rings. Get a grip. Eventually – you’ll get good at what you do, you’ll get the thick skin you need to tear through life. You’re a shark who can’t stop swimming. Get burned. Get destroyed. Rebuild. Your beauty seeps through the cracks and then you start to see – there is no time. It’s only connection. It’s only love. You lost the ones you love keeping your enemies close. Forget them. I love you so much it breaks time. The old stories are fictions. Why you gotta be like that? The only truth is now, now, now. You can only see what I see if you love me. Let’s love together. I’ll teach you violence – I’ll show you everything I know. This is what love feels like – destruction. I will turn you into a wilderness with earth-fire. You can’t mediate a legend. I’m not a sweater.