It's ironic how I always thought that the girls in the book were pathetic for falling in love with a player when I fell for one myself...

No one understands my art. No one understands the beauty of blood streaming from skin. The dark, rich liquid against porcelain skin is perfection. No one understands, but I will keep searching. I try and show them, but they never understand. Then, they have to be terminated. But I will always keep searching.