On the surface, its all spark: a lighter, a spoon, a syringe hopping in sync like hyperactive mascots from some twisted Saturday-morning special. They grin wide, they promise escape, they look like fun...but thats the camouflage.

This isnt freedom.
Its suffering pretending to be adventure.
Behind them waits the demon who runs the show, horns glinting, claws poisedbut he never forces a hand. Thats the trick: the illusion that *you chose this*, that chaos equals freedom, that the edge is where destiny lives
when really, its where destiny dies.

The kanji reads
Fall Seven Times, Rise Eight

but here it becomes a deeper truth:
you dont rise by numbing,
you dont fall by hurting,
you fall when you abandon yourself
and you rise when you stay awake enough to walk your path with clarity.

Because the real killer isnt the drug.
But the desire to escape reality.

Perfect for dark-art lovers, streetwear collectors, horror fans, and anyone whos fought to stay present, grounded, and unbroken.