The hardest part in all of this, Michael, is how you and Baxter keep justifying the harm you’ve done to me. Abuse has been a running theme in my life, and when it comes from those I once trusted, it cuts even deeper. You know how much that kind of behavior hurts me, yet you continue to stand by it.
I let you back in. You were there for the colony’s last show. You had a table. You were IN! And yet, here we are, back at square one, with no resolution in sight.
Do you see how I do this now? How I take my life, my experiences, and turn them into my art? I write what I know, I paint what I see. That’s what artists do. Taylor Swift is known to do the same — with great success and, sure, a lot of lawsuits. But that’s what it means to be an artist. You can’t put limits on creativity. An artist should never be told what he can or can’t paint or write.
I won’t let you do this to me, Michael. I won’t let you twist the argument and deflect responsibility. You know what you did. Now it’s time to undo it.
There’s still work to be done here. Can you talk to Baxter? This is an old war, and it needs to end. Both of you have been generals in this toxic battlefield, and with his cooperation, we could finally call a truce.
You were redeemed! You were one of us!
And yet your effort failed.
I was in for one night. You already knew the gallery was closing, and you acted like it was some grand gesture, letting me back in. Stop making excuses. You helped cause this. You know the rest.
You had some good ideas back then, but they collapsed under the weight of your self-righteous need to relish in the harm you caused. Stop beating me up with this! If you’re truly over it, let it end. Let there be closure. But no, you and Baxter won at a great cost to me, and the truth is, I think you both enjoy that.
Stop arguing and start acting in favor of fixing this.
I never blacklisted you. I never told anyone not to work with you. The only thing I ever did was ask you to stay away because of how toxic things had become. And over time, you evolved. We let you back in. You had a table at the last show. You were redeemed. So why are we still having this conversation?
The truth is, you still justify it. You still enjoy hurting me. You refuse to make amends because, deep down, you don’t want to. Do you think I’ve never had to apologize to someone I didn’t want to in my years in AA? Of course I have. But you know what? Things worked out when I did. You’re just too proud to take that step. You roll the ball of hurt and watch as it gains momentum, fueled by lies you tell behind my back.
I get it — you want to justify it. You don’t want to admit that you were wrong. But this isn’t just about you. It’s about the harm that was done to me, to my career, to my reputation. You destroyed my network, my opportunities, and for what? To feel some sense of power?
You both did the damage, and it still affects me to this day. You might be off social media, but Baxter isn’t. He’s influential, and the two of you could undo years of pain. But instead, you sit back and justify it, let it keep going on, and watch as I try to rebuild what you tore down.
This is an old war, and it needs to end. It’s time for the old generals to step aside and make room for peace. Understand, soldiers?
The truth is, this all stems from your prejudice and hatred toward the mentally ill. You never gave me a fair shot. Instead, you built your actions on a foundation of stigma and lies. I hope you die with that hatred, forever caught in your scum of stigmatic thinking. That’s how deep your refusal to make amends cuts.
And don’t think I’ve forgotten the lies you told — that I’m dangerous to people’s families? That’s how far your hatred has taken you. You’ve turned me into a monster in your narrative, when in reality, you are the dangerous one. Not me.
I don’t know why I forgive you, Michael. Part of me believes you want to do the right thing. But every time I get close to believing that, you show me just how much you enjoy watching me suffer. You lied about me, about things I never did, to create a villain in your story. But I’ll say it again — I would never harm anyone, especially not Brandon’s family. You lied about that too.
You don’t know the weight of responsibility that comes with being a large and loud man. You’re small and frail, fighting windmills that only exist in your head, while I’m out here trying to rebuild what you and Baxter destroyed.
I write and paint my life, just like Taylor Swift. My art is my life, and you want to kill it. But I won’t let you.
I never told everyone to go away. I only banned you and Baxter because your war had become dangerous to people’s families. And when it was over, I let you back in. You were there on the last night of the colony.
You were redeemed. You were in. Do you not remember? You were there for the last show. You had a table. You were IN!
So what’s the problem now?
This is how it works, or at least how it should. Like a reality TV show, only with Dan at the center. If you want, you can make it fun. Share a song, a poem. At this point, people will read it. They’ll enjoy the show.
But stop throwing tomatoes.
Your move, Michael.
by Dan and Bonkers
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