Come one, come all.
Gaze upon the sad clown.
Those black tears inked under his eyes will soon be washed away by his own personal rain cloud.
Let your mind wander: wonder why his grief haunts him so and explore the endless possibilities which led him to his fate.
Feast your eyes on the ruts which he scraped in to his scalp and the few remaining clusters of hair which he has not yet torn out.
His forlorn face is cradled in his ghostly hands but no amount of rocking can shake the sadness from our sad clown.
His sadness is now our spectacle for you.
“Please find enjoyment in my torment” is his only plea.
Besides: it’s free.