my hurt heart has popped of my chest cavity and is lying throbbing on the floor because the beautiful artiste vincent, the role model who i look up to very much and of who'm i have a tatoo tattooed on on my forehead has gone away and will not inspire me to make my beautiful masterpieces anymore. my bleeding heart rests in pain and as i watch it throb, i must go and get a fake razor and fakely attempt to fakely cut my wrists. i pray that you return everynight vincent as i stand watch over your grave...all clad in black....whoops. bit too far in the future. press rewind. ah there we go. i pray that you come back to your darling cat vincent and love her, since she pines for you....whoops....bit too far again....you haven't retired alone with a cat yet....press rewind. vincent, i hope you come back from england (ah, that's it) and grace us again with your presence so that i may get again be inspired at take a fucking 500000 thousnad million pics of myself and my "cut" wrists and upload them to this website.
but seriously, i do miss your work.
it doesn't inspire me to cut my wrists or take pics of myself since i don't do either (since i'm not a goth, and everything up there was fake....) but it's very beautiful to look at.