Criticism is beautiful. It’s helpful, refining, and well intentioned. Without it there could be no improvement; the piece would rot and ruin. A coconut left in the sun until its water turns rank and skin shrivels crisp. Criticism doesn’t hurt. It can’t hurt. Something so necessary can’t possibly feel painful. It can’t cut, it can’t bleed, and it certainly can’t scrub salt deep into contusions. Criticism is constructive. Always. It is good. Good.
Your work is shallow and pathetic, petty and clichéd, incorrect and inconsiderate, devoid of even simple meaning, and an insulting waste of time.
In a good way…?
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