4. Epilogue.

Unlike the musician, I am a truly evil, and my evil is bound up in the veins of vengeance. I can put a red clown nose on my face, run around with a knife or chainsaw, and kill unwanted clones of fallen humanity. I don't give a damn about followers of anything who cling to the principle of putting themselves above everyone else. The problem for some one is misunderstanding. A teenager listens to idol music without thinking about what the musician really wants to convey to the audience. Most people don't even bother to read the translation or see a review of a track. You can't mix the work of Manson and similar artists with your own ego and fictional associations, otherwise a very unpleasant cocktail will spill out of the torn hole onto the dinner table. The demon was drunk after the trips. The knife in his hand scratched the lacquered table with the blade. He was blue with hatred for other people who were luckier than he was. Tears flowed from his eyes from the fact that ...