On Stinky Art People
I feel that my purpose, or one of my purposes, is to make art. I am an artist, that’s what I do. The history and preservation of art is none of my business. I do not like art history, art historians, or art critics. Imagine being so full of yourself that you think you have the authority to speak on behalf of art, to think that the history behind art is cut and dry like a science? To think that they, as a mere “historian” or “critic,” could begin to understand the true obsessive madness that an artist harbors? All critics do is divide artists. They think we can be categorized and summarized and catalogued. They think we do it for them, not for ourselves.
“And no kinds of love are better than others.”
Everything I want is something I already have. I have all the companionship, love, and support in the world. I need to rid myself of this idea that if no one is romantically interested in me, I will die alone. That is simply not true, unless you believe that everyone dies alone. That’s a different can of worms. Don’t friends love you even more wholly than a lover ever could? Don’t they feel for you deeper and hold you tighter when your lover leaves you? Your friends are there to pick up the pieces, should the situation arise. I have found more meaning in life through platonic relationships than I ever have in a romantic one. Is that wrong of me? I believe that I have many soulmates, yet none of them have been a romantic partner. Could there be something fundamentally wrong with the way I love that brings me an absence of romance in my life? I think, feel, and love so deeply. I often feel that I do those things more intensely and more frequently than others. Why do I have so much? Why do other people have so little?
On Freedom
I’m going to need everyone to stop pretending like humans aren’t all inherently free beings because it’s making me really sad. Subjectivity– it’s what sets us apart from other living beings. We innately have the ability to make our own choices. Now, that freedom comes with consequences, but even then, you are free. You are free to act and change the course of your life at any given moment. You are free in how you react to your circumstances, no matter how confining those circumstances may be. A man in prison is still as free as you or I, maybe not in the traditional sense, but he is free nonetheless. To say things like “I have no choice” or “I have to because xyz” is to remain complacent in your unhappiness. You don’t have to go to work if you really don’t want to. You have the option to leave your unhappy relationship. Fuck, you can just go down to the humane society and adopt every single cat in the joint if you so please. Just for the love of god, embrace your freedom to act. Do what makes you happy, do what’s right for you, and don’t flinch when someone gets upset at your ability to harness your freedom just because they simply haven’t grasped their own. By realizing your own potential, you can start actively participating in your own life. We are not objects in ourselves, but objects for ourselves. We are not put on this earth to work until our bodies give out; we are not here to suffer at such lengths. Give yourself a break. Tend to what calls to you. You will follow your heart if you know what’s best for you.
Be kind to each other, and enjoy the rain.
Phrenectomy 