Skip to main content

Dear Anonymous Critic.

I know EXACTLY who you are,

and it's a pity that you are so handsome

because you are so fucking terrible.

I mean inside you there is something

vile and disgusting. Something

needy and corrupted, yet you've

decided you're fit for worship

because you are so... typically unconventional.

You're a narcissist to compensate

for the years when you were hideous.

You are convinced that your socially awkward

childhood and adolescence has served you for better rather than for worse;

You can only go so far before people start to notice that you're spiritually deranged, despite your vast knowledge of unknown artists.

Collecting the scraps of other people's work in order to legitimize your alienation does not make you creative.


  1. ouch, you have always known me so well.

  2. Oh no, it's not directed at you.

    It's a different one of you, not you though.

  3. its probably all of us.


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I Can't Hear Your Little Red Rooster


I call this room Home.

He will not look at me

His eyes flicker with

a speck of violence.

my strained smile,

disgusted by

my pleading eyes.

my veins freeze

icy blood

tearing through coronaries

May Day

'Hope, you don't have to use it on your wedding night.'

She handed the pistol to Hope, right after the vows, right before the reception.

'I'm just kidding, darling. Don't worry. He's a good man. You did well sweetheart. He's a good man. You'll be fine.'

Hope's paper-thin smile tried to grow as she stared at her grandmother's reflection in the mirror. The mother-of-pearl grip sparkled in her grandmother's hand, bathed by the Chapel's cheap buzzing lights.

'There's a bullet for you, just in case.'

Hope had left the gun on the table.

A week earlier, drunk off self-pity, she had taken it out of its case and walked to the kitchen, where she stuck the barrel in her mouth and proceeded to take pictures of herself to send to Ray.

In a rare instance of good fortune, her phone ran out of battery before she could indulge her sense of pithy revenge. She woke up and pried open her tear-salted eyelashes then made sure to delete an…