I have been looking at it all wrong. From the wrong lens. The one that distorts stuff. I need a new lens, I figured. A new kind of distortion.
Criticism has played the starring role in my life, I realized a couple of days ago. It hit me like a rock. Like a plot-twisting, gut-wrenching, anticlimactic climax. Like the badass momma that shows up at the end of Pirahna.
My life is surrounded and inbounded (not sure if that is a word) with Criticism. The hero that turned out to be the villain. Poisoning inch by inch top down, my whole body, messing with the chemical processes inside. Fucking with my brain. Paralysing my being into non-movement. Into eternal inertia. Criticism.
Eating away. Into life. And I don’t mean life. I mean Life! The process of Existence is what I mean. Is what I mean. Criticism shall-will disappear today.
When i pulverise it with my 14 and half inches long elder make with a phoenix feather core!