I finally just got around to hanging this enormous painting by my old pal Ilyas Ahmed in my room. It's a picture of an anthropomorphic rabbit in a suit standing in front of what appears to be a wall of blood. Shadowy men in shadowy suits emerge from the blood. There's a band of orange and then a sort of cerulean blue on which is superimposed a man with a pair of disembodied hands holding a placard with peach and white colored stripes. The painting is on masonite on a wooden frame (badly damaged at this point) and I worry that my apartment's chintzy walls will not hold the weight of it. If it falls ,it will crush the collection of wooden and glass rabbits I have underneath it. I guess I should probably move the rabbits. It should be apparent that I have a thing for rabbits. I always have. I don't know why.

I have sort of a love-hate relationship with the painting. I think it's a great piece of art, but on some days the rabbit-man starts to look a little sinister. The painting also tends to freak people out who spend any significant amount of time in my room (besides me, that is). Sometimes I wonder if the painting is cursed and the source of all of my problems.

Mostly I just hope it doesn't fall off the wall.