Hiiiii.

This project answers the questions: when do we compromise with reality? We have used our human willpower to bend reality to accomodate for our needs and wants. At what point does our desire and efforts become delusional? At what point does our drive to better ourselves cover for our drive to fill a void that we don't know how to fill, beyond self improvement? When are we made perfect beings?

Beyond the anguish we feel from being unable to obtain something is the feeling of release that happens when we accept our own circumstances. At what point do we accept those circumstances? At what point do we know and accept limits?

This is a musical/poetic project with a 3-act structure.

The first act: classic subliminal with better music.

Gradual fade into the 2nd act, a girl sits in her room staring into her computer screen. You can see the light from the screen on her face. Projected onto the wall are subliminal visuals (TBD if i stick w that) The music becomes more rhythmic and minimal, the barely audible voices slow down and become audible, until it's one gregorian/sing-song string of affirmations. They become gradually more desperate in wording, transitioning from desiring beauty to desiring stability to desiring a supernatural ascenscion.

Third act: ascension. Not sure what this looks like yet. I'd ultimately like for it to be a demonstration of acceptance of circumstance, the ability to ultimately be the freest you will ever be when you accept your own limits, as you free yourself from your own desparation.

• This one is a great demonstration of the barely audible, sped up whispering. You can hear voices saying "it's happening right now" repeatedly.

• From a subliminal on zygoma (???) + square jaw reduction: "oh my goodness this actually does work. i can feel my whole right side moving like it’s shifting into a new form and the pressure is a heat like sensation that goes even under my jaw"

The universe has taken a personal and vested interest in my jawline and sharpening it will make my life better. The universe has a personal, vested interest in the length of my eyelashes. My hair feels like running water through my fingers. The sun catches in it and stays there. I can feel the wings growing inside my back. The developing bones press against my skin from the inside. It is painful but I know that once they have emerged my life will be better. I have scripted my narrative and it is angelic, I am angelic, I am an angel. I have wings with which I will reach God.