you know this story, bartholomew, though you do not remember it. i’ll tell it to you as best as i can and promise to be honest in my talebearing. if i’m not, that’s hardly my fault. to tell a story is in some part to tell a lie, isn’t it?
i just wanted to write to tell you that i have been happy during these months together, that i have never been so happy, and that i already know i will never be so happy again.
but i will never change. i will never think: it’s bad, or it would be better to be like everyone else, or it would will lie to them so they’ll accept me. never. i stick to who i am.!in silence, of course, but it’s a proud, stubborn silence.
because art is a fragile magic, just like love, and humanity's only defense against death. that we create and dance and fall in love, that's our rebellion against eternity. everything beautiful is a shield.