I had a mental disorder since my tyrannical father yelled and humiliated me for thinking about and kissing girls when I was a boy. This and my beauty got the targets of bullying. Nobody intervened, encouraged me, or taught me valuable lessons. To stay alive and out of harm's way, I transformed. Life was hard, frustrating, and baffled. Suddenly, at thirty-three, I was filled with depression and on the verge of giving up. Although I gained life lessons and wisdom because of seeking out psychological treatment, my mental disease did not go away. Due to the lack of love in my life, I got my freedom at the age of 43 and retired early, since it felt hopeless and tough.
An attractive woman walks around with her bra, coat, and hat clearly exposed; I painted this to express my frustration. She desires attention and seduction, but she doesn't have to put herself out there like I do and risk rejection because, well, she's hot. The fact that I am mentally ill and terrified of her wrath is frustrating because it happens when I am completely absorbed in her beauty and simultaneously perceive her as wicked, self-centered, and superior—even though I am sweet and empathetic—so her face appears black to me because my perception does not match reality. Being strong, confident, and rich are the only things that will make me good enough. An amiable, tranquil, unfettered, and uncomplicated way of life is thus the goal of tribal patterns. Being with women is all about the key words, but since I'm cute, I prefer they are honest and sweet with me, so I get what I see. I aspire to be the coolest graffiti artist that women dream of having a love affair with.
