This … this is …. something vaguely resembling something else with a vaguely tigeresque pattern and a deformed head with a maniacal grin standing naked in a grove or forest.

Maybe a scene from the new silent hill.
I don’t know, nor do I care.

Fact is, anyone receiving this as gift would probably refuse to sleep in the same room (or house) as this abomination of textile patience devouring “art”, for fear that they’d be found the next morning, hanging from the ceiling by this shi(r)t.

Go Ikea.

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