Am I correct to defend the fist that holds this pen?

I've been so stressed out lately.
Ever since this new book came out, I've been contemplating whether or not I should read it. Every time I think about it, it makes my inside twist. It's a wierd feeling, I cant really explain it. It's a shit feeling to be honest.

I hate people who calls themselves "artists", believe it or not some "rockstars" doesnt even like to be call "rockstars", some finds it an insult, because when people think of rockstars, drugs, sex and alcohol comes up, but not all of them are like that.. So do I but with this thing call "art". The "artists" Ive seen are those who thinks they're tough shit, because they can come up with all these ideas others cant. They judge those around them and everyone they see. I've seen them. They made me feel like I was the smallest person in the world.