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From a certain perspective, one can say, “The man and the artist are two different beings- the man always smiles when he sees the white clouds. He always smiles when the sun rises. He is most of the time delusional and, he hopes hopelessly. He switches personalities and faces to please others. On the other hand, the artist feeds off of darkness, grief and guilt. He submerges into the darkness and tries to find himself in it by following his own screams that are coming from beneath. The artist has an odd obsession with the dark. So, he plunges himself fully into the night to seek solace. He deliberately pushes himself into the darkness and submits to his inner demons and sits face-to-face with them on a bar stool. To check if he is still alive, the artist pokes himself with pointed needles every night and then proceeds to write his art with the blood that spills after he pokes himself a thousand times. Thousands of pieces will be written and a thousand more will c...