Look, don’t make me cry, ok?
I won’t let you.
Not going to let your mean-spirited, petty-minded, niggling criticism get to me this time…
Think you can improve me by picking on my faults and weaknesses…? …suffocating me into your own pathetic, love-starved corner of misery and unfulfilled expression, trying so cleverly to make me doubtful, hesitant, self-conscious about expressing myself?
Not going to let your sad and twisted dampening of my free-spirit consume my shining, gentle, gifted visions; my open-hearted efforts to share my dream, my dance and song out to the world.
No fuck you.
And that nag you rode in on.
And fuck your paltry, pseudo-intellectual judgements too.
Go stick them in those blogs of yours that nobody but you and your snivelling little sycophantic cronies like to snigger at all day, like the shifty, gold-toothed, impotent shit-house rodents that you are…
You represent everything hateful, sinister and green upon this earth.
It is your snide and deprecating censure that I hate – the way it seeks only to choke and snuff out all the glittering magic and wonderment of those souls who hold a true, authentic light of creativity. It’s your craving for that which you could never have that is the murderer of talent in this world. It’s your brutal egotism that robs people of all hope to aspire, to love and dream.
And it makes me sick.
Leave me alone now, in my solitude, my modesty, my imagination, creativity and kindness. I will be left alone…
you made me cry.
You win again…