Creeping, Crawling, Horrors.... Brown With Temmoku and White Cover
Creeping, Crawling, Horrors
This is a fully functional mug with a separate coaster.
Meant to look like something you saw scurry under your bed out of the corner of your eye, it may disturb the weak hearted.
This is the perfect mug for drinking evil beverages.
The mug by itself weighs 15 ounces and holds 18 ounces. The base/coaster weighs 1 pound 5 ounces. Together they weigh 2 pounds 5 ounces.
With the base and mug together it is 7 inches tall, 8 inches long, and 6 and 1/2 inches wide.
The mug by itself is 5 inches tall, 5 inches long at the handle, and 4 inches wide.
This art is Inspired by the mental horrors of humanity.
Manacles of The Mind
A scraping sound.
A creaking joint.
Tapping, tapping, tapping, on the floor.
Scrape, tap, scrape, tap, creak.
Running away is no escape.
These are the sounds that follow.
The sound of unwanted pasts.
The sound of the feared present.
The sounds of latched, manacled, hidden places of rot within.
Each an image of dark places unique to the tortured soul.
A trap door in the floor with rusty padlock, old grey boards, and flaking iron hardware, placed over a gaping dark secret place. Chains from manacles heard through the dark gaps between boards loosely nailed to the floor. Mad eyes seen through the leering cracks, the occasional violent shaking and beating upon the door.
An inverted trap door in the ceiling that leads to an attic where an unwanted specter is locked away, left to rot and rage, among the skeletal structure of the mind. Footsteps and pained voices heard through a thin ceiling that keep sleep from the mind.
A cell-like cage placed in the open where all who enter may see the horrors caged within. Not hidden but paraded before the world. A zoo of horrors that cannot be kept secret. A thing starved and thin and wailing. A wild yearning to be admired, replaced instead, with loathing.
A house full of jewels, gold, and priceless artifacts that no one can touch. An obsessive wretch living among it all. Unwilling to share yet unable to enjoy. A cackling lonely sound mixed with tinkling crystals and the jingling of coins that cannot be spent.
These are but some of the deep dark places of the mind.
Places that tap, scrape, creak, and wail.
They are carried with humanity unwillingly throughout life.
If only the dark places could be passed on to someone else.
Anyone else.
Why me?
Why not someone else?
The truth is whispered with foul rotting breath.
The tapping, creaking, scraping, and wailing of another, might break you entirely.
Creeping, Crawling, Horrors
This is a fully functional mug with a separate coaster.
Meant to look like something you saw scurry under your bed out of the corner of your eye, it may disturb the weak hearted.
This is the perfect mug for drinking evil beverages.
The mug by itself weighs 15 ounces and holds 18 ounces. The base/coaster weighs 1 pound 5 ounces. Together they weigh 2 pounds 5 ounces.
With the base and mug together it is 7 inches tall, 8 inches long, and 6 and 1/2 inches wide.
The mug by itself is 5 inches tall, 5 inches long at the handle, and 4 inches wide.
This art is Inspired by the mental horrors of humanity.
Manacles of The Mind
A scraping sound.
A creaking joint.
Tapping, tapping, tapping, on the floor.
Scrape, tap, scrape, tap, creak.
Running away is no escape.
These are the sounds that follow.
The sound of unwanted pasts.
The sound of the feared present.
The sounds of latched, manacled, hidden places of rot within.
Each an image of dark places unique to the tortured soul.
A trap door in the floor with rusty padlock, old grey boards, and flaking iron hardware, placed over a gaping dark secret place. Chains from manacles heard through the dark gaps between boards loosely nailed to the floor. Mad eyes seen through the leering cracks, the occasional violent shaking and beating upon the door.
An inverted trap door in the ceiling that leads to an attic where an unwanted specter is locked away, left to rot and rage, among the skeletal structure of the mind. Footsteps and pained voices heard through a thin ceiling that keep sleep from the mind.
A cell-like cage placed in the open where all who enter may see the horrors caged within. Not hidden but paraded before the world. A zoo of horrors that cannot be kept secret. A thing starved and thin and wailing. A wild yearning to be admired, replaced instead, with loathing.
A house full of jewels, gold, and priceless artifacts that no one can touch. An obsessive wretch living among it all. Unwilling to share yet unable to enjoy. A cackling lonely sound mixed with tinkling crystals and the jingling of coins that cannot be spent.
These are but some of the deep dark places of the mind.
Places that tap, scrape, creak, and wail.
They are carried with humanity unwillingly throughout life.
If only the dark places could be passed on to someone else.
Anyone else.
Why me?
Why not someone else?
The truth is whispered with foul rotting breath.
The tapping, creaking, scraping, and wailing of another, might break you entirely.
Creeping, Crawling, Horrors
This is a fully functional mug with a separate coaster.
Meant to look like something you saw scurry under your bed out of the corner of your eye, it may disturb the weak hearted.
This is the perfect mug for drinking evil beverages.
The mug by itself weighs 15 ounces and holds 18 ounces. The base/coaster weighs 1 pound 5 ounces. Together they weigh 2 pounds 5 ounces.
With the base and mug together it is 7 inches tall, 8 inches long, and 6 and 1/2 inches wide.
The mug by itself is 5 inches tall, 5 inches long at the handle, and 4 inches wide.
This art is Inspired by the mental horrors of humanity.
Manacles of The Mind
A scraping sound.
A creaking joint.
Tapping, tapping, tapping, on the floor.
Scrape, tap, scrape, tap, creak.
Running away is no escape.
These are the sounds that follow.
The sound of unwanted pasts.
The sound of the feared present.
The sounds of latched, manacled, hidden places of rot within.
Each an image of dark places unique to the tortured soul.
A trap door in the floor with rusty padlock, old grey boards, and flaking iron hardware, placed over a gaping dark secret place. Chains from manacles heard through the dark gaps between boards loosely nailed to the floor. Mad eyes seen through the leering cracks, the occasional violent shaking and beating upon the door.
An inverted trap door in the ceiling that leads to an attic where an unwanted specter is locked away, left to rot and rage, among the skeletal structure of the mind. Footsteps and pained voices heard through a thin ceiling that keep sleep from the mind.
A cell-like cage placed in the open where all who enter may see the horrors caged within. Not hidden but paraded before the world. A zoo of horrors that cannot be kept secret. A thing starved and thin and wailing. A wild yearning to be admired, replaced instead, with loathing.
A house full of jewels, gold, and priceless artifacts that no one can touch. An obsessive wretch living among it all. Unwilling to share yet unable to enjoy. A cackling lonely sound mixed with tinkling crystals and the jingling of coins that cannot be spent.
These are but some of the deep dark places of the mind.
Places that tap, scrape, creak, and wail.
They are carried with humanity unwillingly throughout life.
If only the dark places could be passed on to someone else.
Anyone else.
Why me?
Why not someone else?
The truth is whispered with foul rotting breath.
The tapping, creaking, scraping, and wailing of another, might break you entirely.