Observer

"It's not that good; I've done better."

"No, it is. You underestimate yourself. It forces the observer to realize one day he will die.
What greater way to feel alive? What greater statement than the beauty in futility?"

"You see beauty in everything."

"I see beauty in you."

"And that's what kills me."

"Why?"

"It's not that you see beauty, it's that you refuse to see ugly. This transformation of futility to beauty causes you not to feel the pain that's at the core of existence."

"How can transformation of pain to beauty be wrong?"

"Because it's simply not real. It's a band-aid. It's concealer. You say I'm beautiful, you say I'm exceptional, but you don't want me. Why? Because that's pain, it's dirty and ugly. It's real life art that can't be lensed over. You love me as an idea, as something you can stand back and abstract into beauty, but you don't dare enter the painting. I have a red, velvet rope around me, placed by you, so I'm not touched, not damaged. I'm not art! You can't be an observer; that doesn't work. I can't make you feel alive. To live is to suffer; to be aware is to feel pain. To stand back and merely observe is denial."