Had fun interpreting this image of my cousin Hysen outside the Colloseum.
Image courtesy Hysen & Oneida
Once upon a time, me Khargi, a wanderer of many names, took to walking past every broken monument in the dark in celebration of inconsistency. You see, incoherent habits such as these are really a way of cocking a snook at the world and its greats who are no different from the dead-and-gone aggrandized, narcissist builders of these egoistic monuments. I come here to laugh at the slowly corroding facade, and at the damp corners where dogs surreptitiously pee and lizards mate. You see, I might be a nobody and will leave behind no legacy, but at least I don't have to continue pretending centuries after I am dead. Or roll over in my grave because a dumb-fuck of an historian wrote that the old apple orchard was abundant because I was impotent.
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