another t shit i made. this time its from a frank miller drawing in the dark knight returns. wearing this one tomorrow.

where we left off:







love you guys. also a poem we read in class today:
So You Think You Know Scheherazad
So you think you know Scheherazad
So you think she tells you bedtime stories
that will please and soothe,
invents fairy creatures
who will grand you wishes
Scheherazad invents nothing
Scheherazad awakens
the demons under your bed
They were always there
She locks you in with them
And when you struggle to escape from them,
and when you run
to the very end of the corridor, you find
that it leads only to another corridor
and every door you open is a false door
and suddenly you find yourself in a room
within a room within a room within a room
and suddenly you find yourself forced to meet them,
the demons she unleashes,
the terrors that come from
within you and within her
and suddenly Scheherazad is nowhere to be found
but the stories she unlocked go on and on--
This is the power of the telling of a story--
and suddenly you find yourself
swimming through the sea to the Reef of Extremity,
flying to the Valley of All that is Possible,
walking barefoot on a blade
over the Chasm of Flames,
landing in a field where you wrestle with Iblis,
whose form changes into your love
into Death, into knowledge, into God
whose face changes into Scheherazad--
And suddenly you find yourself
The poem is by Mohja Kahf and I like what it says about the nature of stories and the storyteller.