(Read in a milder tone. I'm not arrogant. I'm just angry and devastated)To willfully err is an art. The fear that engulfs the whole of me, my stutter, and my silence does not let me do that. Sometimes I want to be a demon spitting greenish flames the heat of which will blur your vision for a bit. You don't think I can do that? Listen, if I put my mind to it I can be the epitome of wickedness, a perfect nightmare, an evil witch, or a daring bitch. I can pull it off so effortlessly that you will be completely taken aback. You'll know it in your heart when you lose it to me. I could destroy your world with the snap of my fingers; your terrified screams will echo throughout the realm, slowly drowning in between my cold and cruel laughter. So don't challenge me with your nasty comments, shitty opinions, and archaic thoughts because I am an artist and when I err with all my will, you, my dear, will go extinct.
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