Trying To Define Art
“art,” she announced, as she tied her intestines in a bow, “is the ability to rip out all your innards, and spill them on a surface in whichever manner you choose.”
she stood up, smashed her skull spectacularly, drew around the fragments, ripped off her foot and attached it to a bust of Pallas before breaking down and weeping, staining her fingernails with a murky concoction of what looked like blood and ink.
she then proceeded to explode.
and as I sat there, my tiny frail heart in my hands, I thought, how am I supposed to beat that?
