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knuxfan23 [2014-03-16 06:59:28 +0000 UTC]

lol, it moved when I was scrolling upward to go to my messages

freaked me out for a second


great work~

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VirunVIICrest [2013-12-15 20:10:38 +0000 UTC]

JESUS FUCK WHY WOULD YOU EVEN

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MoxillaDeCurtona [2013-07-21 21:44:41 +0000 UTC]

OH MY GOD!! I thought that was just an image... then IT MOVED!!! I closed my eyes after the third movement.

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Hoten5 [2013-05-23 02:01:49 +0000 UTC]

those eyes....

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DieElliiie [2013-04-29 19:56:59 +0000 UTC]

sieht wieder einmal wunderschön aus, wie eigentlich alle deiner bilder ich beneide dich darum, dass du die gesichtsausdrücke so wunderschön hin bekommst ich wünschte ich könnte das...

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RotmetX [2013-04-22 19:06:32 +0000 UTC]

lol the gif almost make me yell!! and nice

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MR-NIK [2013-04-20 05:40:54 +0000 UTC]

she's troubled but I would be her friend. She needs a warm loving hug.

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yolina95 [2013-04-19 10:24:29 +0000 UTC]

....You almost gave me a heart attack when it came closer suddenly. And it still scares me...

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Baratus [2013-04-19 05:08:18 +0000 UTC]

I hope you know, I almost punched out my computer screen when it got closer >.>; that is a very bad reflex...

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darth-gerko [2013-04-17 16:27:04 +0000 UTC]

... why did you got scared with this one?

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ToolMeshuggah [2013-04-17 07:09:08 +0000 UTC]

I don't know why, but this picture reminds me of a series I've recently dug myself into that most of my Fellow Americans are also feasting on: Mad Men. It's a series about the precarious, tense, and self-destructive lives these dog-eat-dog advertising execs lived back in the 1960s on New York's infamous Madison Avenue. They self-dubbed themselves Mad men. They were glorious bullshitters who make a science out of exploiting people ideals about life in order to sell products. It's a fabulous and rambunctious spaghetti of life, death, betrayal, tension, awkwardness, dehumanization, and cynicism. There's a juxtaposition between the moments of earnest human light in the speeches the main character gives during his speeches and the depressing fact that all he's doing is selling something. It would be one-dimensional if the character loved it. He doesn't, he wants out. After stealing the identity of a man he accidentally killed, he became someone else and forgot his sad, previous life. He is empty inside because of it, empty like his words and his passion. And he wants out, he wants to run away again and yet face it all again. It's a show about soft, weak words attaching to warm, comforting ideas that don't exist. Instead, a world of sharp cynics helps twist the easily-obscured vision of a mass of people fresh out of the conformist age. It's a story about strong, empty words.

Maybe that's why I'm thinking about that show, because "friend" reminds me of a strong but empty word. And love. In the past six months I've come close to terms with death, with the negation of my existence. It's really humbling to really consider negation in all perception -- nothingness. To give up life is to give up being. The more I think, the more I wonder what would make me give up this life. What would I trade my life for? I have heard people say they would give their lives for their friends, but would they? Do they even like their friends enough? Why is it my white, yuppie friends who quietly deride each other between cordial chats blindly toss out words like "love, friend, happy, great, and wonderful" if they don't mean it? What is the point of wearing tight-fitting lies on your face like a misshapen mask? Would anyone really die for a friend? I believe so, but I doubt that anyone that I know would. To consciously give up one's life for a friend's is to say that life is not worth living without that friend. To feel that kind of love is to be truly alive, I feel. And not many of us are alive here. I, just like they, am too terrified of everyone else. When we use a word like "friend," we could mean almost anything. Would I die for a "friend?" I'm not sure, after all, what the fuck is a friend, really?

Love is a beaten and bloodied word. Misused and horribly mistreated, I still believe it is the closest synonym to whatever bonds us together through synchronized interests, good memories, and long talks. It is a childish idea, and one of the few that pins our sorry, tattered forms together the older we get and the more cynicism encroaches upon our ability to reason and care. That is what I believe makes this image so strong: the ambiguity behind it. Is this friend the one that snickers at the way you carry yourself, dress, stand up, walk forward, giggle, act, talk, or just plain breathe? Or is this someone who loves you? The eyes we look through don't tell us -- we don't get to know anymore.

Maybe we're staring at a repugnant conglomeration worthy of our disgust, or maybe our eyes are jaded with fearful loathing. Either way, all we can see is a dark wetness dripping over a dead and decomposing face with such an innocent smile. And mutilated eyes -- grim windows into the pit of the soul. Such an inviting smiles lures us in -- don't we just want to love such a cute little smirk? Such innocent naivete is almost tempting, but do we trust our eyes or this smile? Can we even really know this person any more -- through eyes that see thick, black streaks across such an adorable, smiling face? And yet can we trust a face so horribly disfigured, so abhorrent? As the zoom tells us: no. Those eyes jump right out at us, scare us away. It doesn't matter if that weak smile comforts us, the horrifying facade people give off to fit in with a society of bludgeoned, eviscerated souls and forms will scare us away. And we are right to run away. It isn't easy to make a friend or to be a friend. It's scarier to sit with one another and take off the scary masks than to stare deeply into thousands every day. Nightmarish be the day one dips one's head into the water of redemption, companionship, and love only to find all viscous oil of self-reproach, pain, and bitterness relieved from their face and their soul -- even if only for a moment. Those mere seconds of soothing evaporation wash so quickly over us in our enlightened moments of earnest companionship that it's terrifying. Because it's so easy for it all to come washing over you again next time it rains, and when it rains -- oh does it pour, oh does it soak.

As I look at this image, I imagine myself saturated with the heavy pitch of human darkness -- blinded, deafened, formless, and without ability to touch and feel; I imagine myself pawing about and screaming and blinking, trying to see, hear, feel, and think. It is so rare that I ever get to wash myself of this putrid obfuscation. Perhaps that's what we live for, the moments when we fall into a river or a pond or a stream or a lake and feel it loosen and skitter away like a swarm of fearful mice. When, in our journeys with friends and loves, we stumble and fall, we struggle and fight, we surface and flail, and then we drift toward the shore and lay against the sand, feeling once again -- alive once again. In our adventures, we tie ourselves together and struggle to find those moments where we can wash the muck out of our eyes and look at each other for what we really are. Sharing the great whole that is our complete self, we bond and we learn to love -- really love. But it gets scary with blackened eyes, muffled hearing, and a deadened sense of feeling. And so we hurt, kill, and scream at each other. We make asses of ourselves, but we keep searching, telling stories, and occasionally finding those rivers and streams, those ponds and lakes -- reprieve and sanctuary. An oasis to settle down for a moment and collect your pieces, to cry for a bit and be held, to scream and tear at the sand like a frustrated child, and then to lean back, stare at the sun, the trees, the sky, the clouds, and the life around you with a sigh of deep human longing -- even if only for a bit. A moment to get away from friends like you've shown, a moment to look away from faces like these, and a moment to wash away the masks and just look at each other with love and wholehearted acceptance. That's what we live for, that's what friends are really for, and that is the ultimate goal of love:

To take off these fucking ridiculous masks and stop playing Michael Myers for awhile.

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Sai-nee [2013-04-17 02:44:36 +0000 UTC]

Uh it scares me.. in a... good way? Uhhuuuhuh...

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Bleeeker [2013-04-16 16:24:05 +0000 UTC]

I seriously love all of your pieces like this...it's different and interesting and I can't stop from looking at it. And they always have a strong meaning behind everything. I like how ~DeathRuby interpreted this one. I believe in the same thing.

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ArloxAlly [2013-04-16 13:55:30 +0000 UTC]

Woahhhhh~! I was just reading the description when it zoomed in...Scared me! But you have so much talent in art! <3

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