i just got this sketchbook that's pages and cover that have been soaked in tea and has a linen cotton label. i decorated it with red lipstick and black oil paint and did some demonic writing on the label with ink, glued a red fake butterfly on it connected to a brown wire. it's tormenting me. i don't know what i'm gonna do in it first and it's driving crazy. it's like it's talking to me

i like this. i remember doing a couple of kitschy fashion shows downtown. it wasn't fine, but it was a wonderful time. we would do our makeup and floor and help each other get ready before the catwalk, and if you needed a glue stick or liner someone's got you. it introduced me to a lot of experimental makeup and now i look at products made by individuals instead of brands. i don't like sephora because all the colors are the same, i like silver holographic lipstick right now. i remember one show this woman put craft glitter on my eyes and it started running before i could get on the catwalk. another artist fixed it by using a neon yellow pigment and that was interesting, but the craft glitter sticks in my mind. i learned it's important for a makeup artist to stand out with their makeup kit from that experience. i like when my makeup bag gives me ideas just by opening it while getting ready

mine is world of dolls and always will be. my friend glassdoll and i, i like saying his name but i know he wants to be forgotten by me. i hate that i cant feature his name. i met him on the internet, i don't remember how we had broken hearts made of porcelain as matching icons. we both really loved trees and shoegaze music. he was the one to teach me melodies on the guitar and we played Terraria together. we made that song together, we just made it up on the spot. it's literally song about two internet friends talking to each other trying to find something ethereal and out of this realm. we were both doing a lot of drugs and staying home. i would tell him the future might get better when we were high and the suffering will end. we both really wanted to die, and one day he said he couldn't handle life anymore and wanted it to disappear forever. i don't know where he is now. i'm a synthesizer to his mind

a lot of archaeology. different artifacts, inventions, and bones and their associated purposes. why certain behaviors exist in different rituals and general religious history outside of the text. learning different symbolisms ranging from the kabbalah to the caduceus by studying the arts and artists who practiced mysticism. it's a lot of observation and reflection. everyone has their own dogma like buddhism and mine is more focused on revolutionary demonology, not demonaltry. it's not the same thing. i enjoy the courses that the Seoul National University offers if you're interested

i know we are all plugged into a collective network of consciousness. everyone's talking themselves all the time. it is hard to tell what is real and what is not for all humans on earth. i think there's nothing unusual about the internet compared to human evolution. i love actor network theory, look it up. it explains all existence very well. i don't think it'll be helpful because i think there's nothing abnormal about our experience. kings have existed in the childhoods of serfs and have never spoken to them once. it's weird for both sides always has been. there's nothing wrong with you, i think it's important to remember that theory so you avoid the feeling of being taken advantage of

i'm an occultist getting an education, not a witch. when i was hanging out in the streets a guy came up to me. he called himself "Lucifer". he was a black guy with a cool Touko Lasksonsen fashion look. i was sitting on the steps in front of the punk shop we all hung out at. it's a hot summer night. everyone's drunk and busy yelling about nothing. it was a good party and those were rare there. Lucifer just introduced himself and said I was beautiful, too beautiful be out here. then he offered me cocaine and i said "no, thank you". he was confused and a little flustered and just stood there looking at me. eventually he just walked away, no goodbye. throughout the night he would make fun of the homeless people who would sleep on that block who were also punk and humiliating them for not being able to afford his drugs. next time i went i asked a friend at the time who knew a little bit about everyone "Do you know that Lucifer guy?" and he had no idea who i was talking about.

it's charcuterie. i used to have thanksgiving with my father's side of the family. i was very small. they would do charcuterie with cheeses and meats, red meats and cheeses with a bloomy rind and ones using the pasta filata method. they would bring back strange gifts and collected antiques from countries like china that i found bizarre and ominous

third spaces aren't static. i don't like performing at live houses because those people don't like me. i stopped entertaining them and started entertaining me. i realized overtime i like going to the atelier and eating a macaroon while talking to designers working on a project, and enjoying the piano there. i don't want friends i just let people come and go. people say cruel things when you change your social circle. mine was "pretentious".