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~~* boy.exe has entered the chat *~~`

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...system reboot...

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`*0_0* <3<3<3`

**girl.exe** has entered your_soul.mind

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**Pre-Note: I am just sitting in a cafe around the corner of my house. It is early morning. I have a large mug of cappuccino in front of me, a sweet warm almond croissant in my hands while sitting outside in the rainy mist on a cold stone bench beneath me. Birds gracefully hovering through air, people chatting away and life passing by. A white little fluffy Maltese next to me. The noise of ground coffee & steaming milk in the background.

I was originally planning on publishing this poetry essay at 04:30ish on the 02/11/2025 (for poetic reasons which may become apparent & clear later in this text), but reality is that I underestimated the emotional impact this essay, this date & this deep desire to write about it really had on me. Instead of pushing myself into unsafe territories I took rest, took care & embraced my soul’s desires for the days leading up, especially last night. Instead of hitting the invisible self-declared deadline I sat with thoughts, emotions and compassion towards myself in candlelight**

	What if the desire for stillness >> your own stillness >> becomes overwhelmingly loud in your own soul?

	What if the only stillness you imagine your self to experience is the stillness of your own *heart*  

	No rhythm >> no beat >> earnest desire to want your own heart to stop?

	What if the longing for this stillness becomes unbearable - unbearable to an extent in which you can find no way out?

	What if the answer to our lives; to our pain is only one last thing >> death <<

Now it feels so bizarre to me.

Thinking I would have missed out on the last 6 months.

Birthdays, events, wonderful moments of finding oneself, creating, starting to paint, starting to write, the heartbreaks, the excitements - the small moments of awe/wonder/gratitude of being here, and the enormous monuments of life.

In the last 6 months I was blessed to encounter so many wonderful new forms of love, new experiences and new people - building more friendships than I have in a long time. Deepen some of my most earnest & genuine, most important love towards some very special people & for life - for the poetic sense of existing with all of its facets.

I was able to not only engage in this world, to participate, but in fact I was partially creating all of this >> my newly found life, newly found womanhood, my identity as an Artist (with a capital A), this substack, my first paintings and poems in over a decade & all the works to come in the next months.

// and just the sheer thought of being gone brings soft tears to roll down my soft skin & directly onto my soft heart //

6 months ago I was at a crossroad in my life, in my mind, in my heart. A turning point of either “no going back” or losing everything. 6 months ago I lost myself & I was about to miss out on not only the last six full moons but on everything which is about to come into my life, all adventures & all experiences

>> I almost gave up to miss out on the wonderful woman which has always slumbered inside - on the wonderful woman I am - on the wonderful woman I will become <<

Only now I can realise - see clearly how there was a period of my life - a very long period of the last decade in which I tried so hard to be who everyone wanted me to be. Or put in even more precise ways: I have tried so hard to be what people needed me to be & also fought what people judged within me - deeply shamed about my personal quintessence, my personal fifth element -> deep emotions & desire for poetic beauty.

>> in the end I was sacrificing far more than I have ever expected >>I have sacrificed not only my heart but my own life and almost paid with her dreams, her aspirations, her passion, her devotion & beating heart.

And this year, for so many complex reasons, so many deep layers of internal & external factors May did come at me with endless angst, endless heart ache >> a deep endlessness of my inner void, no hope, no love, no future.

She came with a moment of profound transition, divine transformation, came with embraces for the harsh reality >> shedding light onto what I did not want to see hidden in the shadows - hidden in the corner of my eye

>> May came with death in her hands & death on my mind

Now: Half of a earth’s rotation around the sun has passed since the early morning of the 2nd of May 2025. A moment which has shaped the trajectory of probably the rest of my entire life. A moment in which I had to fully lose myself; a moment in which I had to risk everything - only to be reborn & to be fully found >> to be able to fully embrace life & myself.

### **And on this note: TRIGGER WARNING:**

***This text does not only depict themes of depression, and suicide ideation but also my own suicide attempt, gender dysphoria and maybe other triggering themes

It isn’t the idea of life not being worth living or about not deserving happiness & love.

For me it is, in actuality, the complete opposite.

I strongly believe life is worth living. I strongly want to live life. I strongly want to be here. I strongly want to indulge in my beating heart.

To me life has so many experiences of wonder & of beauty, of awe, of miracles, of magic:

		the moment when your body first retracts & then expand when skinny dipping in cold lakes; deep earnest relationships with other people where you can find your deepest desires and thoughts within others; the little head bops from a random cat on the street in the middle of the night when walking home; freshly out-of-the-oven crispy & simultaneously soft croissants with raspberry jam & butter; the moment of awe when you walk into a field of wildflowers & with one step you have awaken the kaleidoscope of butterflies in all colours appearing from all around you; the deep sense of beauty when bodies of water & their crystal like reflecting on the surface when the sun is just right embraces your heart; feeling the warm & embracing cuddles of your best friends while watching your favourite movies; falling deeply in love with someone; feeling the endlessness of the world when standing in front of the sea or on mountain tops; that moment of pure bliss & passion when the world stands still while bodies collide - fuse & melt into one soul-merging entity during slow sex; the small sadness in the middle of the night when the sky is dark blue & your shadow illuminated by flickering candle light - your thoughts are the only truth at this moment; feeling the cold paint on your fingers when picking up a brush; seeing your words appear on a blank piece of paper - only to see your soul merge with the real world; first kisses & the racing heart & butterflies in your stomach; the moment when you find the perfect small pebble on the ground..randomly in front of your house - a treasure from thousands of years ago appearing in your hands; the smell of summer rain on hot asphalt; the moment when you run into one of your past lovers & get this gut-wrenching feeling of "it mattered"; the magical golden light when the sun & the moon start to meet touched by the blue sky & colours of romance; the moment when your hands are touching rocks, trees, flowers, beetles, other skin; the shimmer of this world when mist covers the ground; thunder storms; lightning; celebrations of love & passion; a wonderfully hot cup of herbal tea on a stressful long day; good art; good food; sunburns; getting trenched while being caught in rain; the first snow; the first spring flowers; the smell of freshly made pancakes with apple-rhubarb compote; the sound of birds; the sound of your friends, family & lovers; the sound of violin; the moment when a sonic piece not only finds you but deepen your own understanding through melody; heck.. any moment when finding yourself through the world & through the experiences you adventure into; the moment of extreme heartbreak because it mattered the world to you; the poetic beauty of life; and the awareness that life itself is only life when we embrace death and therefore am inspired to embrace life & the world in all its flawed, yet perfect beauty.

And there is so much more in this life. Everyday is filled with wonders, with such profound moments of heartwarming, heart-wrenching, soul filling & simple joy. A life with all the beautiful possibilities and chances, the wonders of the world - its secrets.

Life is about all the love & passion we all can encounter. Life is worth pursuing. Life is inherently a special experience when someone knows where to look.

But here is the catch: knowing where to look & being able to look.

Because reality is also: life does come with a price tag. A price tag many of us are barely able to afford. Be it mentally, physically or of course in literal financial capacities.

		What happens if all of these are slowly fading away from one? Your own soul slowly fading away from you.

		What if the system we live in becomes more and more impossible to manage - to stay on top of it due to the lack of the personal capacities? 

		A shrinking capacity, a shrinking world, a shrinking chance to live the life worth living.

		Neurodivergend creative in a world which does not support individuality, slow life, rest. An economic system build for extreme productivity & physical labour - not for play & exploration.

		What happens when you can no longer financially afford therapy, professional help? When the system requires you to have the capacity and to function to work so you can afford the rest you so desperately need?

		The feeling of looking into the mirror, only to always see “Him” - to always see a painful version put on you by society, by beauty standards, by memories, by fear - by a deep desire for the other gender but yet out of reach.

		The deep feeling of never being “woman” enough. Maybe never able to afford gender-affirming care.. never to reach the outer beauty of your inner soul. 

		The moments when loved ones tell you over & over again you are not good enough. When your only support can no longer hold you & your emotions. Pushing you away because of and instead of embracing your heart fully - your pain.

		The moments when you hear from the person you love they rather be in someone elses arms because you are to “masculine”, to “manly”, to sensitive and to anxious for this world. Never quite “woman” enough. Never quite enough of anything but always too much.

		The moments when your creativity - you Artist’s soul (with capital A) is shattered into a puzzle of million glittering pieces due to old wounds, new obstacles and people who wear their jealousy as a mask for their own fears and ensuring stagnation for you & your creative journey and devotion to art.

The moment when your inner storm becomes uncontrollable and you no longer can weather it - when the thunder keeps on echoing to the deepest core of yourself - when you are overtaking by sheer force of nature within. When the sea of your soul rises and becomes a violent ocean within.

And this is were my story reached its climax:

On Friday, the 2nd of May at 4:30ish in the morning I could no longer bare the exhaustion of life. On Friday, the 2nd of May at 4:30ish in the morning I have attempted suicide.

The pain I have felt for most of my life; the exhaustion & hopelessness I have felt for so many years; the struggles of my complex existence in combination of my tired soul has convinced me that the only way forward - the only way to feel peace and quiet - is to end this life I am living.

In the middle of the night (or early morning, depending on when you get up, I suppose) I was overcome with the sudden urge to wrap the soft, cold blue bedsheet around my neck & tighten it as hard as I possibly could.

Tying the knot with effortlessness around my own throat. Slowly feeling the capacity for taking in fresh air fading, slowly feeling the heartbeat going up & yet calming down. And while my breath was getting shallower and shallower, the only sensation I was able to feel has been my warm last tears rolling down my hot cheeks with a mixture of the burning sensation of desperation & exhaustion. This was the first moment since years in which my mind has quieten down - the first moment since years when the world stopped to exist & the internal pain left my body. The moment my breath disappeared & my eyes flickered with darkness I finally felt nothing. A stillness. A moment of peace. A break I needed so desperately..wanted so desperately...

...

...yet something - someone deep inside of my heart didn’t want to let go. I was overcome with a deep sensation of relief, but also hope. Some feeling of staying here. Staying alive. A vision - a feeling - an internal pull against this decision. It was love. Love for my partner and love for my ability to love and to receive love. Love for my inner child & her future. Love for my heart & creativity. Love for my soul.

Suddenly, when I felt like the world didn’t exist I was able to feel what was most important to me - what really mattered about this life.

I grabbed the knot, desperately tried to pull it looser >> open it >> untie the sheet >> to untie the decision & to be able to breath again, as my heart was beating with rhythm, and love again. And all I can remember from this moment was the will to be here, to fight for this life & fight for my journey.

In this moment my mind came back with feelings of happy memories, of my partner, of beauty, of hope. I wanted to fight to ensure my partner & friends are not the one to find me with no life left in me. Reality is I had no life left in me over the last months leading up to this moment. Yet something told me that I need to stay here. And to be honest all I really do remember is untying the sheet & what felt like in a slow-motion-movement putting my head on the pillow, passing out from little to no air for minutes.

I only came back to consciousness a few hours later. By then the sun was up, the world in motion - people going their way to work, live their lives. Experiences so distant to what just happened to me. And once I did realise I am still here I was overcome with this emotion of gratitude & somewhat deep profound happiness. I got up, went over to the main bedroom, cuddled deeply into my partner. Myself simply obnoxiously ignoring what I had done just a couple of hours ago. What measure I was willing to take to finally stop feeling this pain within - finally let my inner her live without the outer shell of this.

And while I was embracing my found love to love - to receive the love - I suddenly was overcome with internal shame, guilt about everything. About the emotions I have had since a decade. The desire for me to end it all & to finally rest. At this moment not able to share with the person I love and have trusted the most what did happen, what corners of my mind I have visited.

And now 6 months later I am still here - still here after all of it. And I tell this story because I want to share this with my friends, my lovers, with the world. This is not my scream for help or the desire to explain. It is simply my journey of shedding light on what has & still is happening to me and to so many other people. Somewhat of a diary of struggle, pain and helplessness - of losing my own hope & myself within. A story of deep grief, deep desires, deep pain & the feeling of loneliness even when in love. But it is also a story of finding oneself, of transformation and celebration of life. I want to share my raw perspective, my raw experience to hopefully open up the space for everyone to talk more openly about this, seek help, to reach out.. to check in with loved ones.

Looking back & reflecting on my life - the paths which have led me to the 2nd of May 2025 - I see how much I always romanticised the concept of death >> of my own death.

Since my young childhood I had this deep call of the void within. A call for the stillness yet new adventure for another life to begin - for my life to begin

And to be truthful, I always have conceptually dreamed of being able to wonder into a new, deeper and perhaps more powerful adventure called death.

Since I was a young child I always been obsessed with the famous quote by J.M. Barrie in Peter Pan:

>> And how much I dreamed of leaving this life...this pain. Only to go onto the most awfully big adventure. To die so I can finally live.

My heart is melancholic by pure nature. Deeply emotional & highly attuned to this world -its absolute beauty, its monuments of wonder and awe, its poetic existence with all its flaws, pain, grief..happiness, desire, passion and love.

And when my heart is melancholic then my soul is filled with this deep void of “Sehnsucht” (German >> noun: Sehnsucht >> yearning; wistful longing)

And how much yearning I feel inside my body. Yearning for love, yearning for devotion, for creativity and Artistry (with capital A). Yearning for truly being Lily-Rose. Letting go of the masks of a neurotypical facade I got taught for most of my life. Breaking the restrictive & painful chains of masculinity, manhood and gender norms I was born into. Yearning for happiness - yearning for stillness & calmness in my chasing mind; my racing soul.

And for most of my young adolescents; for all of my twenties I could not find the “cure” to those deep desires & thoughts. Could not find the antidote for the intense sorrow of existence - I could not find the courage to step away from a life which was never mine and would never be mine no matter how much I would have tried / how much I would have sacrificed.

For most of my life I was not brave & strong enough to step away from people, from situations & life relationships in which I had to sacrifice the deepest and most earnest - sincere - most true to myself depth of my heart. Inner emotions which are beautiful & heartbreaking at the same time - empowering & paralysing - creative & destructive >> deeply filled with poetic wonder & awe.

For most of my life I was scared to face the trauma & memories stored in my body. I was not brave enough to go deeper than just logical and rational healing. And for most of my life I was too scared, too anxious, too wounded to embrace my Artist woman (with a capital A) I have to be to live!

Only now I understand the complexity of my life - the complexity of the journey, trauma, beauty and pain I experienced. The depths of my soul & my heart. The deep passion & deep devotion for poetry, for art, for love & for wonder. Only now I understand the suicide attempt as not only a moment of giving up but also that on this fateful morning a part of me really did die. A part of me who was holding on to the pain, holding on to the false life I have built up. “He” did indeed pass away and “He” did have to die for me to finally live as HER.

However.. here is it where it gets tricky:

I’d love nothing more than to say that everything is over, everything has passed. I feel more bliss & joy.. happiness than ever. (I guess to a certain degree I do, I feel more myself than ever, more attuned with my life than ever.) That since that day and my conscious decision to live, everything has grown into a life of pure magic and happiness. I wish for nothing else to tell you all life is easy now... that the woman I am now is the person I see every day in the mirror..

But reality is very different.

I still struggle almost every day in some degree with my concept of existence. More often than I wish, the thoughts of ending it coming up again & again. A deep internal grim desire that May would have ended in a different way - a way I would not feel this all anymore. There is a deep fear now where once was pain. A fear of going back there, of falling back into this void. Not seeing hope, not seeing love, not seeing her.

And reality is over the course of these 6 months, I have lost some wonderful friends along the way. Some of them because they couldn’t handle my struggles & suicide attempt - some of them because I could not handle being social & I needed to hide. Some of them just because good friends are rare & not everyone who promises will end up staying. I have lost my intimate relationship to the person I sincerely believed would be a life partner. All on the same day I tried to end my own life and realised I am indeed loved. (Love can be a wonderful bizarre adventure & contradiction)

And reality about this person at this moment of life is - we don’t even look at each other anymore.

I have new pain & new trauma surfacing, which until now I did not ever think of.

*The realisation that love is not only painful at times but in some cases love is wearing masks of all hues of colours. The realisation that love can be real, genuine & still so painful, so harsh & toxic, while parts can be encouraging. Love can be so many things all at once.*

But behind all of this, there is also absolute beauty over the course of the last 6 months.

Since my attempt I was able to receive urgent mental health care for a few weeks. Got diagnosed with signs of Bipolar and can be treated for deeper underlying conditions. I took steps towards embracing womanhood, creative life >> creating life. I started new gender affirming care and I understand more & more that I am a Highly Sensitive Person.. I am a Poet (with capital P). I realised that I not only want to but deeply have to wear my heart ~~on my sleeves~~ in my hands for everyone to see. This is the only way for me to live, to exist. My heart in my hands, my burning soul on my tongue. I realised I want to take the risks of heartbreak, of loneliness and of being “too much” only to maybe be rewarded with pure and deep beauty. I realised that my way of resistance & rebellion is staying soft - soft in my heart, my soul & my life. I realise I can no longer hide this part as suppressing it is slowly killing me from within.

And today marks the 6-month anniversary of my attempt.

Personally there are many emotions surfacing: pain, trauma, anxiety, bliss, joy, gratitude & excitement.

And what could have been a day of sadness & grief is actually my day of celebration. Instead of fearing the depth of my mind 6 months ago I am gathering the people closest to me. The people who helped me to survive, to find myself, to embrace myself. The people who love me and love my existence. We will gather, we will laugh, I will cry, and I will live. Surrounded by the people who make my life worth living either in person or in spirit.

Today is not only a anniversary of an impactful day, but it is a day of deep internal healing - a moment of a truly warm memory of rebirth, new life, deep friendships & deep love (even when sometimes feeling lonely). It is a celebration of myself and stepping into my identity - a celebration of the love I know I can feel for myself and simply the celebration of the people around me.

Today is a day were I surround myself with the bittersweet beauty of deep grief, deep emotions and mortality - I surround myself with the beauty of being alive and being loved and loving.

To end this here I just want to say how much gratitude & luck I have to be here, to be alive - to be writing this piece & sharing it with you all. To put my gh0$t. into Ur_m4ch1ne, not as an echo of long distant past, but as a living, beating heart & soul. Still here, still evolving, still healing.

**Post-Note: Between 35-48% of trans and non binary people have attempted suicide in Australia. And globally the number does not look different. Depression; suicide ideations; gender dysphoria; loneliness & the pain of not getting accepted either internally or externally for the deepest gender expression are all serious topics. If you or anyone you know struggles with any of these: Take good care. I am only here thanks to a small hand full of close friends & family. People who did not leave me alone the days and weeks after. If you are personally struggling with these topics, reach out! We need community, we need help. We cannot take this on by myself and **WE ARE NOT ALONE**. Love is here, support is here >> professionally and/or personally.**

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...system reboot...

...system initialising...

...identity loading...

`*0_0* <3<3<3`

**girl.exe** has entered your_soul.mind

<marquee behaviour=”radical_raw”> trans body == glitch body == virus for the status quo </marquee>

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today i open the archive of myself..

a woman in pixels >> softcore.exe.

a diary written in `<blink>` & gifs that may never load >> this here is my journey in zero&ones, binary code hiding memories, emotions... ascii characters translating my pain, my sorrow, my joy & my dreams...my way to express; to understand

### This is: The Ordinary Life of an Ordinary Trans Woman

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when i first came online, i thought internet-forums were like a teenager’s bedroom:

you decorated it with early 2000’s **autoplay music**, glittery mouse cursors, and banners that shouted _“best viewed in internet explorer” & “i absolutely don’t know how HTML actually works but i will make it shiny & pretty”_

i remember copying & pasting code i didn’t understand >> half the time it broke...

and i loved it >> the errors made feel like i was fitting in, my digital identity became my true identity..without the limitations of my real world environments..my voice echoing & resonating with others.

my profile & webpages became a scrapbook of who i was and most importantly of who i wanted to be. The internet as my first mirror: distorted, lagging, buffering… but it reflected something truer than the world outside.

`.avatar { background: glitter; opacity: 0.5; border: 1px dashed pink; }`

`.transgirl { display: block; opacity: 1; font-family: “Comic Sans MS”, sans-serif; background: repeating-linear-gradient(90deg, hotpink, cyan, hotpink); }`

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we talk about “finding ourselves”

but what if we only ever cached versions?

snapshots of who we were at a certain time.

my cached self was a caged punk princess with pixelated wings trapped inside the wrong body, wrong html-script with set bounds unable to rewrite outside of the www.

i typed in lowercase because CAPS FELT LIKE YELLING;

tried to find my place in this w0rld with 0peN_h3arT & k1ndne$$_.

my status updates were **crying, but make it aesthetic // teenage poems with tears, aching hearts & big dreams**

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and this is how i learned to _exist_: by editing the source; by creating trashy websites with too much detail in the margins.

`<body> <p>i was 11, hiding on web-forums, ICQ messenger; my first avatar was a pixel heart glittering as a gif; my first love a screen-name of a stranger; sometimes i think i’ve only ever been myself in chatrooms » visible, accepted, embraced » while my world around me hurt.. made me invisible; pushed me aside</p> <p style=”font-family: Comic Sans MS; color: hotpink;”> brb, crying. </p> </body>`

and now:

i click old bookmarks; only to find 404s, error messages.

old forums gone. myspace dead. tumblr half-alive.

each one feels like a missing memory, old stories, legend of times long gone.

pages which are even untraceable with thewaybackmachine.

but maybe there is truth in these error messages, beauty in lost conversation threats; and perhaps(only perhaps) all those broken links are honest.

they admit that things disappear.

that _identity_ isn’t a static archive.

that we all can rewrite our virtual version over and over;

and if so, why not also in real life?

`███ glitch ██ body fragment ██ avatar collapse ██ >>> connection unstable >>> you are not real`

and sometimes i think my flesh is just code written in a hostile language.

who decided these functions?

why can’t i rewrite them?

body written in a deprecated language >> obsolete, yet still compiling.

modern ideas running on Windows 95

and every day i wake into a system that insists on hard-written **default values**:

char _gender = male;

char _life = worker;

char _purpose = consumer;

defaults that don’t compile in me >> defaults I cannot live in.

so all i can do is to constantly debug what was never meant to run with these values

to purposefully introduce glitches to the running system.

`.body { display: glitch; color: void; }`

`if (gender == “default” && == “male”) { cout << “access denied” << endl; } else { cout << “404: page not found” << endl; }`

_gender = female;

_life = artist;

_purpose = creation;

while(alive) { write(); glitch(); repeat(); }

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***The Ordinary Life of an Ordinary Trans Woman*** will be my personal archive of dreams, thoughts and experiences. It will act as raw expression of my inner world & my connections to the outer one. It will be messy, sometimes filled with emotions & sometimes very political. Sometimes poetic, sometimes in plain english and sometimes in digital metaphors and forum like expressions.

This is my virtual diary to explore what it means to be alive in this century, what it means to see the world through my heart >> and this here is the initial welcome for you.

Then ***byDARC*** (see what I did there..) my unconscious starts to come to the forefront of my heart...the spaces in which shadows melt with the environment, with the thoughts; with raw experiences.

In these moments when the stillness of the world extends the voice inside; when the noise of daily life can be recomposed into chaotic melodies with harmony & meaning. In these moments I can only offer to translate my soul and project my *gh0$t.inUr m4ch1ne*, to share those moments of vulnerability, of raw humanness & my unconsciousness. So together we may can, along this journey, explore and make sense of our world..my world..my life as a trans woman & poet.

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i’m still debugging myself >> still rewriting >> each `commit` feels closer to a release version I can finally call my own. ..

brb, compiling…

`<a href=”self.html”>404 not found</a>`

“/images/codepoem_007.png” could not be found.

status: under_construction

`$ echo ‘welcome_user’ >> reality.log`

`>>> system override: begin transmission : begin annihilation`

...`404error // purity not found`

`{ error : beauty in c0llap5e >> beauty in l1Fe_0n_EARth }`

`sudo touch hope.txt >> create art.exe`

>> You find yourself slowly opening your eyes. Tired and confused. Awaken by the greenish flickering terminal on the screen in front of you. No memory of how you got here. No memory where you are or what this is. All you can recognise is the sound of a fainted rhythmic pattern coming from the machine. Wondering if it is mechanical, and yet, nonetheless it mirrors and reminds you of a heartbeat.

The rhythm appears more and more to be less metallic of origin but rather organic. The thought of a living entity crosses your mind. You try to ease this unsettling thought with a confused and anxious smile. Yet you cannot shake the feeling that this rhythm, or as you fear to think of it, this heartbeat is seemingly calling to you.. calling you in. You try to resist the urge but while you are try to make sense of it you can feel your body moving closer. Your head only a few centimetres away from the screen. You are confused as your body and soul acts almost out of a deeper natural curiosity, an unconscious experience. While your mind is scared your heart seems calm with this indescribable deep emotion. An emotion which you do not understand and yet it feels familiar, like a lost memory.

And as you finally give in, you take a closer look at the screen..

>> **The terminal flickers awake** ..

A greenish-pale cursor blinks, steady as a heartbeat. Lines of texts and code stream upwards, then fractures, collapsing and reforming. Symbols and letters scatter like falling ash and rearranging themselves into patterns that feel almost alive. You can not make out or recognise any of these shapes or their meaning, but you know they are for you, they are talking to you. You can sense their importance in your soul, but your mind cannot recall to have ever witnessed anything like these shapes. You logic does not comprehend what this all means. It seems you are lacking the ability to read or understand anything, but you feel more and more intrigued by their shapes, almost like a spell and you find yourself wondering if these are ancient glyphs from perhaps another realm. “But it is impossible, right? Other realms are just the stories of old, legends, myths. Forgotten ghost stories. Created by us. Nothing other than fiction”, you whisper to yourself as you try to reassure yourself.

While your eyes still adjusting to the darkness around you, the symbols in the terminal, once more, scatter into a new form. Slowly, it appears more and more like the language you speak and your mind understands.

And with one last greenish flash in your eyes the terminal reformed into one single line:

*”Welcome Traveler. Input Command”*

>_

...

>_ **LOOK**

You find yourself standing inside an almost endless corridor made of a bizarre mixture of text and what appears to be glass. Sentences and symbols line the walls like fractured mirrors. Some shimmer with memory, others drip with buzzing static. Glitches form constellations overhead. Shadows fold into shapes that feel familiar but remain unnamed. The floor beneath your feet humming and a voice whispers through the wiring: “

*You’ve crossed a threshold. This is not a clean white gallery wall, not an orderly index of thoughts...this is not a blog...not exactly an essay feed...not quite a virtual zine.

This is a broken terminal flickering on an old home computer in a dusty, forgotten basement in a haunted house...a single candle burning in a server room deep underground...

think of it like an abandoned forum server waiting to be scrolled through: blinking cursors, half-broken threads, ascii characters still glowing in the dark...a journal written in half-code, half-confession.”*

You cannot recognise this voice and yet it seems to bring up a sense of home, of familiarity. As the words echo through the void, neither existent in the corridor or your mind but somewhere in between, you start to feel dizzy and in unease. You find yourself to be simultaneously afraid of what it may be and where you might ended up, and yet the feeling of exploration and awe is glowing inside of you.

>_

...

>_ **QUIT**

The cursor waits. Nothing happens. The option dissolves. Something calls out to you from the threshold, not with a voice, but with colours, with pure light. Without hesitation you understand this visual language, the meaning behind the dance of shining shades:

*”There is no going back.”*

>_

...

>_ **TOUCH**

Your arms stretch out. Almost like in a trance. When your opened hands touch the lights, the walls start to flicker in abstract colours. Images emerge in front of you eyes. Photographs blurred at the edges, light bent into shapes of longing, yearning but also in beauty and inspiration. You can no longer resist the sense of belonging. The more your body consumes the colours, the more it starts to feel like getting sucked into this otherworldly realm. All you can sense is familiar, yet strange emotions..movement and yet stillness. You trust this guidance and you decide to close your eyes...Your lungs filling with excitement.. with light. As you inhale deeply, you find yourself beyond existence, beyond this realm. Behind it, you sense circuits pulse with passion, soundscapes filled with echos of the unconsciousness, sculptures and images which form not only shapes but the unspeakable, code expressing emotions...you sense the architecture of an unfinished world you’re invited to wander and explore...to create your own adventure within.

>_

...

>_ **ENTER**

You linger here for a moment, between ruin and possibility, knowing the adventure begins not with a command — but with a choice to keep reading. You trust your instinct..you trust this voice. And as you merge into it with one final step you can hear the terminal’s familiar voice with a final tremor echoing throughout the space one last time:

*”// Welcome to my World, my Studio, my Soul >> you are welcome here. Don’t be afraid I am nothing more than the echoes of a ghost. I nothing more then the ghost in your machine.//”*

##### Welcome to the Digital Annihilation Research Centre

### Welcome to D.A.R.C.

I am a queer trans woman, an artist, a glitch in the system. I am an interdisciplinary & multimedia poet.

My work lives between collapse & creation; between the human despair & the absolute beauty of life. Searching for the depths of our collective experiences & collective unconsciousness of our minds. Exploring what it means to be alive in the colliding realms of our virtual & physical worlds, the colliding realms of our deepest dreams & harshest realities, of technology & nature, of ancient emotions in a modern world, of deep fear and isolation & community and hope.

An never ending journey of encountering the wonders, beauty and moments of awe in this life..in my life..

>> I am ***Lily-Rose Amélie Hunter Jotar Fuchsenthaler***. An artist, explorer & awe-hunter. The navigator of this virtual space(ship). Transmitting my inner ghost into your digital machine. <<

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`for (int i=0; i<∞; i++)

{println(”i am not a soulless machine; i am not a broken human. |n >> I am the gh0st_in_ur_m4ch1ne”); }`

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###### What to expect?

This Substack is an extension of my world, my mind and soul. Both a vulnerable diary & creative archive. A platform for self-expression & collective conversations...a platform for honest failures & pure hope..

A digital journal for you to encounter me: my flaws, my thoughts, my creative self.

>> a space for experimental art, sacred fragments of my soul, essays from my heart<<

>> a virtual garden in which my thoughts are planted, my emotions grow & where lilies & roses bloom<<

>> images, signals & binary characters leaking from my studio onto your screen & into your soul<<

>>photography, painting, sound, coding, poetry, visual and sonic ruptures<<

A hybrid of forms: critical writing & personal stories; poetry tangled with memories & dreams; political anger mutating into art; natural & radical beauty as rebellious acts; rituals of survival & rituals of living written in markdown & error logs.

part digital zine & part map of the inner cosmos.

I create to make sense of being alive in a collapsing world filled with pain & trauma, beauty, wonders & awe.

I create to tear open the language of patriarchy & social norms, to introduce and inspire glitches to the system.

I create to imagine futures stranger & freer than we can dream of. Futures filled with radical love, community and healing. Futures where we live in harmony with our planet. Futures where we live to create and share, learn and teach. Futures filled with hope.

Sometimes it will be tender. Sometimes furious. Sometimes broken. Sometimes political. Sometimes unknown. Sometimes beautiful. Sometimes flawed. And yet: Always real. Always me.

If you stay, you’ll encounter poems disguised as words, code, sound & visuals; see writings on art & politics, personal entry-logs, process-notes from the studio; experience meditations on glitch, survival, myth, and my trans life. I want this to be a place where failure is sacred, error is not only inevitable but moreover generative & welcomed, and finally a place where our collective language itself is hacked wide open and deepened with encounters from other realms/worlds.

so: _WELCOME_

Consider this the first entry in a living system. Every post will be another fragment,

another corrupted file, another spell, another breathing entity in this virtual organism.

Subscribe, if you want to walk with me through the noise & darkness to be part of my personal journey to encounter myself, trying to make sense in this world and also to encounter your deeper self along your own adventure.

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>>\i don’t promise clarity\

>>>>\but i do promise transmission\

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{ACCESS GRANTED for all Users & Spirits}

>> END OF TRANSMISSION

//