Sometimes I Feel Lonely, But It's Ok

One Thing That Success Has Taught Me Is Censorship.

The Words Went Round And Round And Round In My Mind And My Body, Until I Knew They Were No Longer My Words But Something That Had Been Carved Into My Heart. And Now My Soul Was Crying.

Criticism On My Works Is Like This: You've Worked Hard All Of Your Life, You Went To Oxford, And You've Done This And That, And You're An Art Critic. Your Job Is To Unravel The "secret" Or Whatever, And You Come Across An Entity Like Me. It's Going To Piss You Off. Because There's No Great Secret, What You See Is What You Get, And Anyone Can Understand What I'm Doing. So, It's Almost Like I Make This Critic-person Redundant, Just By My Attitude, And They Resent Me For That.

Art Is Like A Lover Whom You Run Away From But Who Comes Back And Picks You Up.

I Don't Ask For An Apology Because It's Only Tomorrow's Fish-and-chip Paper.