Perpetrators

It isn't about living or dying.

 

It's when fluidity is ugly. My heart and soul vanished because they became one, because they lost conflict. Statements cannot be made, nor can they be recognized. It's a slow dissolution into sudden supreme existence, which just as quickly loses its glory to nonexistence.

 

The point is, heaven is unimaginable. We try to think of our favorite things and place them in heaven, but the truth is, we know it doesn't work. It's a unglamorous as eating pizza or ice cream every meal for the rest of your life, or never finding a girl who doesn't want you. Heaven only operates as long as Hell exists.

 

I worked too hard. I am merging and molding into one mass. My existence is fading away.

 

Warhol did this to me.