They tell me I’m insane, bizarre absolute mad man. I tell them their right, for the most part. But these are words that soil my life’s work. They say I’m crazy, I say I’m passionate. After all I do love what I do. They tell me I’m bizarre, I say I’m just different. After all were we not told growing up that it was ok to be different? The cry I’m a mad man, maybe, I like to think of myself as an artist. I count myself among the greats, those men before me who revolutionized the way mankind thinks and act. I humbly consider myself as one of their disciples in which they instilled the notion to think outside the box. I just acquired this knowledge from a more hands on approach. But when they call me a murderer, well, I’ll try not to let them see me blush.
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