I’m Van Gogh’s Ear And I Just Feel A Little Cut Off By the Guy
Hear me out, please?
Vincent Wilhelm Van Gogh, you should be ashamed of yourself. All I have to say is: ouch. I know you’ve been pretty frustrated. Or annoyed? I don’t know, like art itself, it’s all subjective. But the fact you went to the lengths you did after I just tried to help with the creative process, it just feels like you aren’t listening. It hurts not being heard, or hearing at all! I don’t know, I just feel a little cut off by you.
Hear me out, if it’s possible, but I thought we were really close. We would spend hours listening to all the hits of Beethoven, Mozart, and Bach. I was there when you learned how to finger paint and when you explored wearing a beret. You looked horrible in one, but I loved you too much to tell you. How can I forget that one special night we had under the stars. You said, “This is a starry night, I’m going to paint it.” And paint it you did, old friend. Remember when you let me paint the moon? To this day, I remain honored. We were on top of the world, you, me and righty. Until things went silent between you and me.
I know you probably don’t want to hear this. I don’t even know if you can. But you changed Vince. I don’t recognize you anymore. Every time I see your self-portraits in the gallery something is missing: me. I hate not being in the picture anymore, Vinny. But I can’t say I didn’t see it coming. You were getting a bit pretentious with the success and whenever I gave you any critique you would plug me and righty and say “la la la la la, I can’t hear you!” I didn’t know you were serious. No one did. I know some days you were a bit emo too, blasting Mozart in your room, sniffing paint just to feel something. I know I was here to lend an ear, always there to listen, but you just weren’t having it.
And then the day I was dreading came. You cut me off completely. And it wasn’t even like you just blocked me on Instagram or something. You knew the possibility of me making a disguise Instagram to follow you again, even casting aside my original handle @itsvannygsleftear and its 1.2M follower count to do so, was too high. Because at the end of the day, I’m not…I mean, I wasn’t just your ear. I was, and am still, your biggest fan. So when you literally took a knife to me and cut me off physically, I was really confused. Was it in the name of art? Even looking back now, it’s hard to believe that we were once so inseparable. And then we were like oil and water, and you chose oil… for your paintings, that is. I was the water in your ear that you just couldn’t shake out after a shower. I realize that could get annoying about me.
What you may not have thought through was, when you cut me off, you also cut me off from all of my friends and family. We had the same ones, which made you cutting me off all the more cruel: neck, cheek, various blood vessels, they were all friends who I miss. They chose your side, and I understand that. So while I’m no longer in the know about your life as I once was, I still hear talk and read what you’re doing in the papers. And I will say I’m concerned for you, Vanny G. You locking yourself in your room, only leaving to go shopping at Ye Ole Hot Topic, and being all depressed and mentally disturbed isn’t a good look. How can you make art when you aren’t experiencing the world outside a dimly lit store inside a mall? It just seems like your life went downhill when you cut me off.
All the noise doesn’t affect me since you cut me off. You might be interested to know I have an earring now, something I always wanted to do but you said no to. I’ll admit, I still wonder why it was me you cut off, and not righty. We both know it should have been him, he didn’t care for you and your work like I did. But I hope you’re listening to all this, as I speak through this wooden drawer you shoved me in, probably driving you further and further into schizophrenia and mental illness as I speak to you, as an ear. But I had to get all of this off my lobe or it was gonna drive me crazy. I mean, one of us has to stay sane, am I right?
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