“My words are dangerous. Not just to me, not just to the way you think, but to conventions that don’t deserve to stand if words can make them break.”
My words are dangerous. Not just to me, not just to the way you think, but to conventions that don’t deserve to stand if words can make them break. I know what I want and I’m not afraid to get it. I’m only afraid I’ll stop wanting again and have to be reminded of what I love right before I forget it. The distance is growing between me and you, shining a light between us where the shadows can’t live through. I’ve never felt closer to distance and I’ve never felt closer to myself and bleeding something new.
I’ve been working very hard on getting what I want. This life goes quickly, but I have been incredibly patient with myself and listening to exactly what I am going forward. You can’t rush this, but the art is starting to flow in a way that feels like it’s fully a part of me. Like another appendage that I couldn’t live without. That’s how I know I am much, much closer. Also, I’m tired of people who play “Artist.” I live what I do and I always have. This fucking shit keeps me alive, or at the very least, wanting to live. I am very, very serious about what I do and what I create. If what you’re passionate about isn’t the thing keeping you alive, step aside. I wield this weapon with great respect and responsibility and I hope you do too. My final chapter of my shape-shift is forthcoming and it’s almost like waiting on these new pieces of myself to converge with my past, present and future. When they do, a gateway will open and you’re all invited. There should be a healthy amount of fear and respect when someone declares themselves an Artist. Those who helped muddy those waters, I want to make this as clear as I possibly can. I am an enemy to you.
Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read and experience what I do. I am forever grateful.
