“KNIGHT IN RUSTED ARMOR” is a 24x30 one-of-a-kind piece for the poor bastard who keeps hugging cacti hoping for a cuddle. The people-pleaser. The fixer. The “maybe-if-I-love-them-hard-enough” martyr. Spoiler: some folks don’t want saving—they want spectators for the slow-motion trainwreck.
They’ll drown just to prove love sinks, then call it growth. Meanwhile, you’re out here watering weeds like they’re roses and wondering why your garden’s a funeral.
You’re not a damn salad bar. You’re the full-course meal. Serve yourself spicy and let the bland chew on mediocrity elsewhere.
If this hits you in the chest or the childhood, maybe it belongs on your wall.
Stay weird. Stay sharp. And stop tossing life rafts to people who sink on purpose.
