“You became to me the visible incarnation of that unseen ideal whose memory haunts us artists like an exquisite dream. I worshipped you. I grew jealous of every one to whom you spoke. I wanted to have you all to myself. I was only happy when I was with you.”
is just one of many things i casually say to my fraternal sibling (definitely NOT the man my homosexual-ass has become absolutely obsessed with and who i’ve reshaped my interpretation of art to fit the image of).