I wish, just for moment, that I could show you how you look to me. How even your simplest of creations are a constant inspiration. Not because they give me ideas or contribute in a synergistic manner with my own works. It’s because your pieces of literary and artistic genius give me hope that one day my own pieces will no longer be this muddled, contorted maelstrom of chaos and damnable poetry. They give me happiness when I sorely lack even a shred of joy. They enable me to bravely face the demons of my work, in hopes of quelling their ceaseless screams, or destroying them all together. In the end, your positivity helps me face the monsters that I have created to remind myself that this world will continue to beat me down, and that with the unknowing support of all of you, I can continue to fight.