Manster or Mon? Part Two

A high horse have we sat for quite some time now. We've built our own mountains. Never believing we would fall off. Sometimes we got up. The other times we did not get up. No matter our status in life, we are the kings of our own minds. We have always thought kingly of ourselves. Existing in ever-shifting roles of importance and nonsensical ramblings. One day we are kings. The next we sit with monstrous intent. Truths slow-dripping down our sides. Through our minds. My resolve is forever unwavering. Like the mighty oak, I stand tall. The wind has to go around me, it will move only for the Gods.

Things inevitably change. The Jester signifies the beginnings of moving forward. The winds of change flurry in a large gust taunting even the strongest to succumb to a lumbering living dead. The court jester never ceases to distract from the important things at hand. He means great dear to man and woman. We ever so briefly forget our troubles. It just seems to melt all away into the void. Objects sometimes lose their way. Laughter is a way to feel alive. As a court jester makes his presence known, the jokes run rampant. His short-lived approximation of joke-making hits home. The Jester is the 5-star General of the court. Laughter is medicine, laughter is a weapon. What is a weapon? But a tool in a toolbox.

Our exaltedness is quickly dashed as our problems begin to pile up high, to the ceiling. We may live like royalty in our minds but our body begins to decay. We gasp for air as the grasp on logic wains. Our bodies twist as our words twist and writhe with every lie. Our once human visage is set upon by rot of Mind, Body, and Spirit. There's a heart somewhere in there as well. If we only keep up appearances the true work will never be done. We must stand strong and stay true to ourselves. We will forever twist until our purpose or purpose of nature is completed. Still solid in the plan, but lacks The Trilogy of The Essence. (Mind, Body, Spirit)

We slide so quickly into cutting corners. Our resolve is shaken and changed. Now man is truly corrupt and rotten. Screaming for his pound of flesh, he shakes in his boots. Skeletal feet shaking in boots. Jungle rot takes on a new meaning. No more rest for the screaming dead. Wailing at anything that moves, pouncing on the downtrodden. His belly is full but he still asks for more. Never ceasing hunger. He's got Dollar symbols over his eyeballs. There must be a way to turn back. No! The only way is to move forward.

There seems to be no conceivable way to return to what was. I've been changed forever, forcing me to adapt. Floundering as we go. Man is amazing at stewing. We are our own worst critics. How do we get stuck here? We become complacent with very low self-care. We suffer in our own bodies and minds. Even our soul screams for change.

*I created this series to express how I sometimes feel in this world. I wanted words to match images, yet left to be interpreted. Art is subjective after all. I just lead you there. Please let me know how you feel about these pieces. Leave comments and show some love. If the series is a big enough hit I'd like to commit to ongoing series of works.

-Artwork created using Starryai art generator.

-Panels and Filters by Comica.

-Image to PDF for transfers.

-Adobe Acrobat