2/14/96
So, you say, you can convince me that my entire world is a fantasy. All this nonsense talk about fathering Madonna's child and making her fall in love with me is useless. After all, she IS the busiest woman in the world, and she will have no time to be visiting foolish teenage-minded web pages. I say SO WHAT?
Making up all this stuff in my head has given me a hell of a lot of pleasure, and feeling like I can tell the world about it gives me a sense of pure ecstacy, even if nothing transpires. Yes, you heard me correctly. I am happy to live in these fantasies for the remainder of my life if I have to. Having them has given me other goals which are easily meetable, such as finding the money to finance this thing, and the soon-to-begin search for a company that will be unafraid to pass this stuff on to the world. These things ARE grounded in "reality", and they're a hell of a lot better than anything I had before this obsession began.
So, don't try to punish me for telling you my fantasies, because I'm not sorry. The only one you'll be fucking up by trying to "get" me is yourself. Messing with strong minds is not work for fools. You will confuse, dismay, and eventually destroy yourself. But I get the impression that if you can take such delight in putting down other people's heartfelt joys, dreams, and pleasures, on some level, you want yourself to be destroyed. Congratulations! You shall fulfill your own wish.