"Looking into the eyes of my death, I remember all those people who crossed my path by chance. Those brave souls who dared to disturb my sanctuary, and I myself was not against letting them in due to a constant feeling of incompleteness and consuming loneliness. As I look at a scrap of paper and write with a worthless ballpoint pen, devoid of any poetry, I inscribe on the empty page, as empty as my soul, from your diary, Laura. I did everything carefully, bound the diary, and left only small traces of interaction. I took just a tiny piece of your world, unlike you, who took my heart and broke it like an ordinary mechanism. Gear by gear, you pulled parts out of me, pressing me with your claws to the cold, soulless ground, relishing the power and triumph over such a pitiful little person in your life. I sincerely believed that I had finally found a friend, someone with whom I could share my loneliness, someone with whom I could share stories: mine would be from books, and yours real and tangible. I would listen to all your romantic escapades, all your tales of the boys you wrapped around your finger, and I would continue to passionately wish that you would never leave me. But Laura, you made me a dirty, corrupted lump of bones and organs. I still remember that night and every second of how you drained my soul.
I justified you so much, thinking that you wanted to show me the light, to show me what it was like to be desired, to be vulnerable, but I was wrong after realizing that people are irredeemable. And your Donna is too. But if BOB is real and he has sullied your holy name on the lips of many, tell me, Laura, would you have done the same to me? I seem to have loved you… but I still do not know the whole truth; I do not dare to touch your diary, for it is yours, like mine, a sanctuary. I hope that at least after my eyes close forever, in the depths of great darkness, I will see the flame of truth.
Laura and Donna, I dedicate this piece of my flesh and blood, thought and the remnants of my heart in this short farewell letter. You both liked the same kind of orchids (or perhaps you just decided to pretend and equally deceived me), so I will bury this piece of paper in a pot with this flower, just as your souls are buried in your darkness, debauchery, and lust. My home was the only sanctuary you took from me."
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I love Harold Smith and his actor Lenny von Dohlen (rest in peace) very much, I watched every scene with Harold in detail, read Laura's entries about him in her diary, and to be honest, I can't even imagine what my precious boy went through 😔😔😔
I tried to write a kind of his su-cide note, which you can see in the background of the art and in the post. I hope Twin Peaks connoisseurs and Harold fans will find all the references here :)
turnnoffyourmind
origamiaround
pixelskylines
stormborns
gummygunk
titsay
areudirty