I painted this statement onto the bed with black paint:

“I want to paint an abstract Dorian Gray. I would like to be happy forever. The painting can be depressed instead. The painting can get hurt, lonely and scared. I don’t want to be unhappy any more. Except that I couldn’t paint an abstract Dorian Gray because I’m not beautiful inside. Not perfect or pure.

Maybe someone did paint my soul like Dorian Gray. Maybe that’s why I’m miserable forever. Maybe the painting is growing up and moving on. Maybe the painting is happy. Maybe the painting is beautiful.”