Lately, I've been developping the profile of the perfect bastard, a man whose traits are split into a variety of handwritings and thoughts. He is a byproduct of all the refined villains and not-so villains that I had the pleasure to meet, and it is hightime that someone created him. Beautiful and decadent like Dorian Grey, cynical like Lord Harry Wotton , obsessive like Humbert Humbert, nihilist like Holden Caulfield, armed with the black humour of the Joker and the words of Iago, refined like Rhett Butler . A hedonist, a nihilist, an anarchist; a walking contradiction. A man that can never be part of the world , but just float a few cm above the earth, with a sarcastic smile in the corner of his senusal mouth. A man who gave up his soul , a scared demon, a scary angel. So, who can invent this man? I'd write him , but my ink is too pale and my paper isn't white enough...There are moments when I look on evil simply as a mode through which I can realise my conception of the beautiful.