[ The Most Beautiful Thing Ever ]

I put a lot of work--thought into this piece of shit--I mean art. YES, ART. Ha, yes. Well let's start with the center of the piece.

Hatter and Poptart:
Poptart is asleep. She has been asleep for a long time, she has reached the point of your sleep where you're having such a good if not wet dream that you're out like a fucking log. You're dead to the world and you feel that you're safe despite the fact that every single time you take a breath, a single molecule in the air could trigger some god awful who the fuck knows what that causes your near instantaneous death. And she is able to drool in her sleep due to this HEAVEN SENT--Yes, heaven--grace of peace. Hatter brought her this, she is happy, this is why her left hand is holding his ass.

It makes sense, right? While she is asleep, Hatter does not. Hatter is so amazing that you can't look at his face and know what he is thinking. Because his face lies. It almost looks as if he is a monster, but no he is no monster he is her saviour. Her god. Which brings us back to the sleep. She is asleep, and he is watching her because he doesn't need sleep. He's already dead inside and outside. And yet he is not dead or alive, he is just there. And he is mad. A MAD HATTER YOU SAY? No, there's no such thing. Because he is happy. He is proud to keep her close, and if anyone so much as touches her in her sleep, or makes a bad joke about her drool.

HE WILL KILL THEM. There is no mercy. There is only the disillusioned feeling of Love.
)(~*~)(
The border is a very strange and diverse part of the piece, its inconsistency might mean that nothing is solid, and nothing can contain anything beautiful, not even this drawing. There's no way any artist no matter how skilled can capture the inane--I mean awe inspiring thing that is their Care and undying affection towards one another. The bottom is breaking apart and casting its stones into the heavens. What is left is reaching out to what it cannot hold. What is right still holds rather still. But it points out that, "...God might not like you, in fact he hates you!"

Aw fuck, that was such a good movie, and if you don't know what movie that is, I'm going to punch you in the ear.

The top relates to the bottom right corner.

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, TEN.

[ 666 ]

"She lived each day as if she'd die. The Tragedy, she says, is that she didn't."

And that just leaves three things.
)(!*!)(
The Undead bleeding heart.

The upside down cross, with a ruby set into the cross section...[With all of my favorite bands etched in or nearby it all.]

And then the Broken yin-yang.

It is broken because look at your life, fool. Do you have anything similar to the beautiful thing all of this bullshit surrounds? No, you probably do not. There is no harmony in your fast-food, retarded diets, capitalism spun, and mundane wretched lives. And if you think I am over-emotional or depressed because I think such poor things of the zealous shell of a life you think exists now or after you die.

Then fuck you, you are the ugly the darkness seems to engulf, you just become part of "The Man's" design and not some artisan crafting some truth.

And god be damned if I show through as ugly. When I die, I will be beautiful. But no matter how many times you rebuke it, no matter what your opinion is of my art--or my style, or my Horrible Horrible words. You must know, that Poptart, in her comfort and sleep...

...Is more beautiful than you will ever be.

[Cheers]