Kill the Church, Save the Man Boxy Tee
The front doesn't whisper it.
Drip Drip. It's a Toxic Bliss. Right there on the chest. Below it — the church under a sky that hasn't decided if it's storming yet. Steeple pointing up at something. The third eye beside it, stamped like a prescription label: 3Y3 C U. The Third Eye Needs A DR. The building that was supposed to save you. The eye that started asking why it needed saving in the first place.
Then turn around.
The top half is a painting that refuses to be quiet — Mario in the wreckage, serpents in the roots, pyramids and planets and figures mid-wrestle with something that was never given a clinical name. It's the inside of a mind that hasn't been managed yet. Loud. Unfiltered. The kind of alive that makes institutions nervous.
Below it — church-shaped cookies in a plastic tray. Frosting. Red sprinkles like something didn't survive the service. 666 piped in the handwriting of someone who learned it in Sunday school. Kill The Church. Save The Man. Delivered in the language of bake sales and fellowship halls and every potluck that never said what it really meant.
That's the whole sermon. Top half: the chaos they told you was dangerous. Bottom half: the order they handed you on a paper plate and called grace.
The cookies are shaped like the thing. The message is what the thing costs you.
Oversized boxy cut. Worn by anyone who ever sat in a pew and felt further from God than when they walked in.
A.R.A. — Artistic Revolt Apparel
The institution was never the answer. It was the question you weren't allowed to ask.
.: 100% airlume combed and ring-spun cotton (fiber content varies for different colors)
.: Medium fabric (6.0 oz/yd² (170 g/m²))
.: Relaxed fit
.: Tear-away label
