The Ugly Fungus of Predetermined Destinies

I would love to say it is a perfect world, and I do believe it is. I apply this word only as an over all perspective, but the problem is that it can be easily misinterpreted and it’s offensive when in such cases. I use the word ‘perfect’ to describe the balance of nature, the idea that the conditions for existence are apparent, and the existence of all opposites. The fact that the conditions for a comfortable life style are at all here is an absolute phenomenon. Maybe that is all it is and I am wrong to call it perfect, but its just a pretty word that sometimes feels right.

The reality is that the laws of seneca dictating random chance create horribly difficult and unbearable circumstances for people who have no choice. When you are born into a body with fetal alcohol syndrome, you have no choice in the matter and it is entirely unfair. That is what this drawing means to me now. At the time it was drawn, it was more just something that I thought was interesting and dark, but now it feels more like a reminder of how unfair the universe can be, and how maybe the word perfect is just a big lie and a kick in the teeth for some.