What happens when masculinity starts to dress differently? From painted nails to red carpet looks, more and more straight men are embracing styles once seen as queer, but what does it really mean? Is this a real shift, or just another way for old power structures to adapt and survive? Between curiosity and doubt, the line between authenticity and performance starts to blur.
Read MoreVoices are never neutral: they are placed and framed before they are heard. Focusing on minor voices and minorities, this Manifesto traces the tension between visibility and power, revealing the paradox of being seen everywhere yet rarely heard, and turning the question back to us: where do we stand?
Read MoreA place that does not keep you. Here, you'll find reflection, waiting, and the sound of departure repeating itself. Time is borrowed, roles loosen their grip. For those unclaimed by destination, for those who trust movement more than answers, for those who seek comfort in incompleteness.
Read MoreAn uncanny journey through the ever-changing house of the mind. When I dream, I drift through chaos, control, and becoming. Between waking and sleep, my unconscious speaks in fragments. Time blurs, identity loosens, and something in me is remembered—then lost.
Read MoreI live in a space between wanting clarity and learning to stay with uncertainty. I keep searching for a door out, a moment that tells me I’ve arrive, that I’m done becoming. But the longer I circle this threshold, the more I wonder if my need for answers is what keeps me here
Read MoreI hope to bring you into my bed☆ and, scene by scene, make you fragile☆. For those who ask for intimacy they cannot sustain, for those who love endless trees, for those who walk their own bed on a leash with pride. I caress you all☆and watch you☆ while lying in your liminal space☆☆MADDA
Read MoreA shared house is a liminal space that walks into your life. Imagine having a roommate, a stranger who is always in your house. You absorb their stories, their calls, their laughter. Yet in this in-between, something aligns, and you realise that simply feeling part of something may be enough.
Read MoreBelow Milan’s polished streets lies another city made of echoes, flickering lights, and strangers in motion. Between departures and arrivals, the subway becomes a space where time folds, and the self dissolves into movement. A fleeting threshold between what has been left behind and what has yet to arrive. Where the city shows its most authentic side, and so do we.
Read MoreWe are creatures of thresholds craving permanence, yet our only constant is change. We long to arrive, yet the act of arriving empties the arrival of its meaning. Once the thing we awaited becomes ours, the waiting itself dissolves, and with it, a certain aliveness. Hence, we look again toward the next horizon, the next job, the next version of ourselves. As the queue advances, we step forward.
Read MoreSpectacle that can’t walk, sit, or breathe still fills the feed. This piece maps how branding borrows the word “art.” Our curated circles feel outside but, at the same time, sit very close to the stage. Maybe the glitch we crave isn’t onstage: it’s in us.
Read MoreMy overflowing essence enters another cluster of spirits that stand scrutinizing my form of respect for my identity concept. Naked, my body takes on lightness and gains power. Maybe it plays hide-and-seek between my space and yours. Me & You, we are dots.
Read MoreJust like now, a certain melancholy incapacitates me every March. A longing for home, not like any other. A bit sad, heaving on the chest, that slowly dissolves as spring finally blooms. Yet revisits every single year.
Read MoreFlawless abundance, yet an eerie stillness. What would life look like without jobs? When AI fulfills every promise, what remains of humanity? A true revolution demands rethinking the foundations of the obsolete systems.
Read MoreHis poetry sprung life upon the dead, yet his venomous lust dictated a much darker plot. Indulgence lingers on the verge of creation, crowding the spaces between control and surrender. Who will bear the consequences?
As the car turns, fate unfolds. In the end, we all turn.
I put a spell on you to obsessively remember. Carnal. We gain control through losing it, becoming addicted to the sensation of loss. What if I deceived you, presenting only spectral versions of myself, lacking any tangible reality? I’m dying to communicate with you. Fais-moi mal, Johnny.
Read MoreOne’s 20s are tumultuous times, hailed as the best years of life, where childhood is shed as we metamorphose into our final forms. As we start to emerge within our ranks the voices in our ears grow restless insisting we must join them, while time powers on unapologetically. So, where to begin?
Read MoreAct 2 of “Sex Lullaby - The Ethereal to be a Daily Chore”. A conversation with Christa Joo Hyun D’Angelo. I want to tell the story of when we were alive: the desire for romantic intimacy, coming to terms with higher levels of anxiety, shame and stigma. Lilith. My angry love, an unsearched-for tenderness. The revelation of my softness.
Read MoreAs you grow older, certain consequences are associated with sitting in the sun too long — and they tend to show up in the form of creases on your skin. Wrinkles have had women obsess over their looks for centuries, making them question their beauty and worthiness. But is it all that bad, that you don’t look 16 anymore? Here’s why I think the answer is no.
Read MoreCasual sex: an opportunity for silent communication. A sadistic and sweet game that plays with the tangible distance of the other self. External perception, desire, discreet seduction. All in a pink little box I tenderly whisper to. Let’s reveal why we want the ethereal to be a daily chore.
Read MorePortrait comes from protraho in Latin, meaning to “bring to light, disclose, and reveal”. To give physical properties to something that exists only in the realm of selfhood is an attempt to define oneself. If it is mind over matter, why are we so reliant on images to convey the truth?
Read More
