October 12, 2000: The faces I paint are me of many

To be peaceful is the most difficult choice of my life. I wish people knew the number of times I ask myself, “Which jerk will turn first and start abusing?” Yes! I’m conceited! In order to survive, there’s a part of me that’s got to be arrogant. I have to show anger! The guard must be kept up at all times! If value isn’t displayed, expectation is set at getting fucked another twenty-two years. Imagine being one to all—how am I to finish a project if I’m being pulled in four hundred different directions? Without this writing instrument—I’m as silent as a full moon.