a spray can in the other.
Skated through static, breakdanced through bruises, wrote my name on cities that didn’t ask for it.
Built a creed in basslines and backbeats.
House music found me by accident
one party,
wrong address, right frequency.
Took trains to queer clubs,
bled glitter, worshipped electroclash.
Dissolved in a rave.
Resurfaced
in a cave
new wave
flooding me with shadows, angles, and synth.
Fashion taught me rebellion in silk.
Mods taught me symmetry.
A dress became a weapon.
Design became my tongue.
Then:
Kundalini ignition.
Paris refinement.
Art direction
like martial arts every choice,
a strike.
Started speaking to ghosts.
Started listening.
Now?
Just here tuning signals, shaping frequencies, playing one of many lives
in this shimmering, glitching,
video-life game..
.
.