Oh my…
This place needs an upheavel!
…no, not just this blog, silly! It is quite abysmal, I do agree. I’m talking about something else.
What exactly?
This whole city.
This whole city needs to burn.
Fuck this rotten, mushy core. Fuck how artistically dead that people must find meaning through cheap, cheap thrills.
I’m sure there’s good people here. They’re just rarely artists, it seems.
Or maybe, those two weren’t artists. Maybe that person weren’t an artist either. That person is talented, but I am hesitant to call him an artist. I know that /he/ wasn’t an artist, that was my first exposure to the AB binary.
Maybe…they were people who made art. There’s a difference you know. It’s A and B.
->A, will be for Artists.
->B, for People Who Make Art.
No one is better than the other.
But sometimes, the clash is too much to handle.
A, art is their perceptual system. Their nervous system too. How they think, feel, see. Determines their behaviour, their choices.
B lives without that type of body. They have something else, but their body is still capable of creating art.
The clash comes because A takes things that B makes and it shakes them to their core. But B takes the things A makes and feels nothing.
I have a hard time with Bs because I know they feel nothing when I hand them my things.
I think that’s all for tonight. I’m quite angry. And the funny thing is, I’m not apart of this one. But I do care for my friend.
If you’re reading this, which I doubt, which is kind of why I’m writing this, I just wanted to say so much.
You’ve changed my life. I wouldn’t be who I am if it weren’t for what you do. Fellow A. You’ve been there to see my bumpy steps up my art progression. Encouraging, supporting, loving. Thank you. You are real. I’m sorry for what happened. You do not deserve that. I hope one day, someone will truly see you for you. You’ll get to feel love with no hidden taxes. I feel you will. The love letter will enter your hands, your eyes will read every word over and over before you even know you’re in love. I know you will because of how much you’ve been real to me and my art. It is A.