Personal expression is a vital part of human existence. To some, this is art at its purest and the most beautiful example of freedom that exists in society. To others, this type of individuality is the darkest form of evil that exists; a personal expression that must be suppressed and censored at all costs.
The purpose of my work is to challenge peoples beliefs, the notions of their identities, who they are, why they exist, and the purposes they serve in their lives. I do not believe in boundaries, nor do I believe in simple answers to complex questions.
People are afraid of what they do not understand.
I aim to challenge those fears.
What else is the point of being an artist?
BRIAN GREER
"Discontent is the first step in the progress of a man or a nation." - ancient Chinese fortune cookie
We are so alike that it is almost painful to be around one another. Your eyes serve as a reminder of all of my flaws, as I'm sure mine reflect all those things you wish you could change about yourself. Perhaps that is why your response to my affections are to call attention to all of my insecurities and shortcomings, as if I wasn’t painfully self-conscious of them already.
It’s a strange thing being in love with someone who is incapable of being loved.
It's stranger still to keep going back.
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Forgive my bitterness. But I often wonder what purpose I serve to you other than being another diversion in a long list of diversions. Maybe there is no purpose at all. Perhaps I am dwelling on something that has never crossed your mind. But logic forces me to ask: why spend time with someone for whom you seemingly have nothing but contempt? I suppose I’ll never truly understand because the answer to that question is locked away in the recesses of that stormy mind full venom and acid you love to spew at anyone who dares to care for you.
I wish my purpose was to be the quiet in that storm… if only for a brief moment.
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Sometimes I think I would do anything to see you smile, or at least expose a tiny crack in that armor to let the light shine out. I've seen it, ever so briefly, but I know that there is a sweetness that exists inside you that radiates when you allow it to shine. And I know if I said that to you, or you read it in this letter, my sentiment would be met with complete and utter indifference - which is why I will never let you read this.
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I will be whatever you need. You just have to let me.
Here's something you may not know about me... I make music. Well, occasionally I make music... if you can call it that. Or to put it more accurately, I arrange downloaded loops and royalty-free beats with my computer, layer them together until they form a coherent sound, and, well, that's about it. In essence, I am exactly like Moby, except for the fact that he is much better at stealing other people's musc and making it his own than I am. And the fact that he's bald and gay.
I started dabbling in this sort of thing so I wouldn't have to pay other people thousands of dollars to score my movies. I actually made a whole CD of music for the "Transmissions 2.0" short film compilation (which will be released God-knows-when), and that's what you're listening to right now.
One thing you will notice about this music is that it is not very good. Of course, the score works much better in the context of the film, but I do want to state for the record that I am NOT a musician. Musicians write their own music, play instruments, and sing. I do none of those things. Although I did write a song for the Sexual All-Stars called "Quadriplegic Blues" that I am promised will appear as a B-side on their forthcoming album. But for the most part, I have no musical inclination whatsoever.
Of course, that should be pretty obvious judging by what you're hearing right now.
The total running time is 79:56. I got a little carried away. But if you want an autographed copy, just let me know! I have plenty of these things sitting around...
I would really appreciate some comments from the two people who read my blog. It is really not much fun exposing your soul to a world of apathy. Just one "Dude, you suck" comment would really make my month.
- B
"If your desires are not extravagant, they will be granted." - ancient Chinese fortune cookie
Personal expression is a vital part of human existence. To some, this is art at its purest and the most beautiful example of freedom that exists in society. To others, this type of individuality is the darkest form of evil that exists; a personal expression that must be suppressed and censored at all costs.
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