ππππππ ππππππππππ
Author & image maker; Sentimentalist by trade
Strength through openness and vulnerability.
NYC βοΈ LA
Demo reel consisting of my (beauty/fashion) video work for @randytran.photography
A tremendous and warm thank you to everyone that had been involved in the process. You are all the real mvpβs π€ (I will dig my old emails for call sheets and tag).

Demo reel consisting of my (beauty/fashion) video work for @randytran.photography
A tremendous and warm thank you to everyone that had been involved in the process. You are all the real mvpβs π€ (I will dig my old emails for call sheets and tag).

Demo reel consisting of my (beauty/fashion) video work for @randytran.photography
A tremendous and warm thank you to everyone that had been involved in the process. You are all the real mvpβs π€ (I will dig my old emails for call sheets and tag).

Demo reel consisting of my (beauty/fashion) video work for @randytran.photography
A tremendous and warm thank you to everyone that had been involved in the process. You are all the real mvpβs π€ (I will dig my old emails for call sheets and tag).

Demo reel consisting of my (beauty/fashion) video work for @randytran.photography
A tremendous and warm thank you to everyone that had been involved in the process. You are all the real mvpβs π€ (I will dig my old emails for call sheets and tag).

Demo reel consisting of my (beauty/fashion) video work for @randytran.photography
A tremendous and warm thank you to everyone that had been involved in the process. You are all the real mvpβs π€ (I will dig my old emails for call sheets and tag).

Demo reel consisting of my (beauty/fashion) video work for @randytran.photography
A tremendous and warm thank you to everyone that had been involved in the process. You are all the real mvpβs π€ (I will dig my old emails for call sheets and tag).

Demo reel consisting of my (beauty/fashion) video work for @randytran.photography
A tremendous and warm thank you to everyone that had been involved in the process. You are all the real mvpβs π€ (I will dig my old emails for call sheets and tag).

Demo reel consisting of my (beauty/fashion) video work for @randytran.photography
A tremendous and warm thank you to everyone that had been involved in the process. You are all the real mvpβs π€ (I will dig my old emails for call sheets and tag).

Demo reel consisting of my (beauty/fashion) video work for @randytran.photography
A tremendous and warm thank you to everyone that had been involved in the process. You are all the real mvpβs π€ (I will dig my old emails for call sheets and tag).
Feeling flirty this springπΊπΈ
Talent: @loevangelist
MUA: @candid0.exe_mua
Shot at: @misestudio.nyc

After being gored and hollowed out by machine and having my blood replaced with gasoline, I still believe in the healing power of love

After being gored and hollowed out by machine and having my blood replaced with gasoline, I still believe in the healing power of love

After being gored and hollowed out by machine and having my blood replaced with gasoline, I still believe in the healing power of love

After being gored and hollowed out by machine and having my blood replaced with gasoline, I still believe in the healing power of love

After being gored and hollowed out by machine and having my blood replaced with gasoline, I still believe in the healing power of love

After being gored and hollowed out by machine and having my blood replaced with gasoline, I still believe in the healing power of love

After being gored and hollowed out by machine and having my blood replaced with gasoline, I still believe in the healing power of love

After being gored and hollowed out by machine and having my blood replaced with gasoline, I still believe in the healing power of love

After being gored and hollowed out by machine and having my blood replaced with gasoline, I still believe in the healing power of love

After being gored and hollowed out by machine and having my blood replaced with gasoline, I still believe in the healing power of love

After being gored and hollowed out by machine and having my blood replaced with gasoline, I still believe in the healing power of love

After being gored and hollowed out by machine and having my blood replaced with gasoline, I still believe in the healing power of love

Iβm fighting drowsiness and the lethargy that begs me to fall asleep. To fall in love. It does me no good after midnight where the spell of temptation harps and hums a purring melody softer than the sound of my name. I wish to write back, unfiltered and without hesitation. βYouβ deserve no second guessing. So as I battle these armies of sheep that demand me of sleep, I command this last strip of lucidity before I am drowned in their wool. Itβs so soft. Warm. Just like you. I canβt go back to where you are. Iβm needed elsewhere, despite how much I love you. Donβt forgive me.
Iβm aware of these changes. Iβm becoming unrecognizable under self scrutiny. I disallow myself expression of my truth. But I am held by reins of pursuing pleasure. Nothing that I am does not interest me β and we have shared too much. Too alike.
My words escape me because the moment they are materialized, they lose meaning. Perhaps the quantification of words and feelings are something only helmed by the divine. But I forget the divine is here. I imagine one day that steel will outline my flesh in impenetrable machinery and encase these bones in the immortal shell of circuitry, but words β language, surpasses the original birth and Eden. When flesh decays and the iron casings rust, and the wings are snipped off, there will only be dust. Words cannot ever truly die. Only found again. Perhaps, us among them.
- excerpt from my substack

Iβm fighting drowsiness and the lethargy that begs me to fall asleep. To fall in love. It does me no good after midnight where the spell of temptation harps and hums a purring melody softer than the sound of my name. I wish to write back, unfiltered and without hesitation. βYouβ deserve no second guessing. So as I battle these armies of sheep that demand me of sleep, I command this last strip of lucidity before I am drowned in their wool. Itβs so soft. Warm. Just like you. I canβt go back to where you are. Iβm needed elsewhere, despite how much I love you. Donβt forgive me.
Iβm aware of these changes. Iβm becoming unrecognizable under self scrutiny. I disallow myself expression of my truth. But I am held by reins of pursuing pleasure. Nothing that I am does not interest me β and we have shared too much. Too alike.
My words escape me because the moment they are materialized, they lose meaning. Perhaps the quantification of words and feelings are something only helmed by the divine. But I forget the divine is here. I imagine one day that steel will outline my flesh in impenetrable machinery and encase these bones in the immortal shell of circuitry, but words β language, surpasses the original birth and Eden. When flesh decays and the iron casings rust, and the wings are snipped off, there will only be dust. Words cannot ever truly die. Only found again. Perhaps, us among them.
- excerpt from my substack

Iβm fighting drowsiness and the lethargy that begs me to fall asleep. To fall in love. It does me no good after midnight where the spell of temptation harps and hums a purring melody softer than the sound of my name. I wish to write back, unfiltered and without hesitation. βYouβ deserve no second guessing. So as I battle these armies of sheep that demand me of sleep, I command this last strip of lucidity before I am drowned in their wool. Itβs so soft. Warm. Just like you. I canβt go back to where you are. Iβm needed elsewhere, despite how much I love you. Donβt forgive me.
Iβm aware of these changes. Iβm becoming unrecognizable under self scrutiny. I disallow myself expression of my truth. But I am held by reins of pursuing pleasure. Nothing that I am does not interest me β and we have shared too much. Too alike.
My words escape me because the moment they are materialized, they lose meaning. Perhaps the quantification of words and feelings are something only helmed by the divine. But I forget the divine is here. I imagine one day that steel will outline my flesh in impenetrable machinery and encase these bones in the immortal shell of circuitry, but words β language, surpasses the original birth and Eden. When flesh decays and the iron casings rust, and the wings are snipped off, there will only be dust. Words cannot ever truly die. Only found again. Perhaps, us among them.
- excerpt from my substack

Iβm fighting drowsiness and the lethargy that begs me to fall asleep. To fall in love. It does me no good after midnight where the spell of temptation harps and hums a purring melody softer than the sound of my name. I wish to write back, unfiltered and without hesitation. βYouβ deserve no second guessing. So as I battle these armies of sheep that demand me of sleep, I command this last strip of lucidity before I am drowned in their wool. Itβs so soft. Warm. Just like you. I canβt go back to where you are. Iβm needed elsewhere, despite how much I love you. Donβt forgive me.
Iβm aware of these changes. Iβm becoming unrecognizable under self scrutiny. I disallow myself expression of my truth. But I am held by reins of pursuing pleasure. Nothing that I am does not interest me β and we have shared too much. Too alike.
My words escape me because the moment they are materialized, they lose meaning. Perhaps the quantification of words and feelings are something only helmed by the divine. But I forget the divine is here. I imagine one day that steel will outline my flesh in impenetrable machinery and encase these bones in the immortal shell of circuitry, but words β language, surpasses the original birth and Eden. When flesh decays and the iron casings rust, and the wings are snipped off, there will only be dust. Words cannot ever truly die. Only found again. Perhaps, us among them.
- excerpt from my substack

Iβm fighting drowsiness and the lethargy that begs me to fall asleep. To fall in love. It does me no good after midnight where the spell of temptation harps and hums a purring melody softer than the sound of my name. I wish to write back, unfiltered and without hesitation. βYouβ deserve no second guessing. So as I battle these armies of sheep that demand me of sleep, I command this last strip of lucidity before I am drowned in their wool. Itβs so soft. Warm. Just like you. I canβt go back to where you are. Iβm needed elsewhere, despite how much I love you. Donβt forgive me.
Iβm aware of these changes. Iβm becoming unrecognizable under self scrutiny. I disallow myself expression of my truth. But I am held by reins of pursuing pleasure. Nothing that I am does not interest me β and we have shared too much. Too alike.
My words escape me because the moment they are materialized, they lose meaning. Perhaps the quantification of words and feelings are something only helmed by the divine. But I forget the divine is here. I imagine one day that steel will outline my flesh in impenetrable machinery and encase these bones in the immortal shell of circuitry, but words β language, surpasses the original birth and Eden. When flesh decays and the iron casings rust, and the wings are snipped off, there will only be dust. Words cannot ever truly die. Only found again. Perhaps, us among them.
- excerpt from my substack

Iβm fighting drowsiness and the lethargy that begs me to fall asleep. To fall in love. It does me no good after midnight where the spell of temptation harps and hums a purring melody softer than the sound of my name. I wish to write back, unfiltered and without hesitation. βYouβ deserve no second guessing. So as I battle these armies of sheep that demand me of sleep, I command this last strip of lucidity before I am drowned in their wool. Itβs so soft. Warm. Just like you. I canβt go back to where you are. Iβm needed elsewhere, despite how much I love you. Donβt forgive me.
Iβm aware of these changes. Iβm becoming unrecognizable under self scrutiny. I disallow myself expression of my truth. But I am held by reins of pursuing pleasure. Nothing that I am does not interest me β and we have shared too much. Too alike.
My words escape me because the moment they are materialized, they lose meaning. Perhaps the quantification of words and feelings are something only helmed by the divine. But I forget the divine is here. I imagine one day that steel will outline my flesh in impenetrable machinery and encase these bones in the immortal shell of circuitry, but words β language, surpasses the original birth and Eden. When flesh decays and the iron casings rust, and the wings are snipped off, there will only be dust. Words cannot ever truly die. Only found again. Perhaps, us among them.
- excerpt from my substack

Iβm fighting drowsiness and the lethargy that begs me to fall asleep. To fall in love. It does me no good after midnight where the spell of temptation harps and hums a purring melody softer than the sound of my name. I wish to write back, unfiltered and without hesitation. βYouβ deserve no second guessing. So as I battle these armies of sheep that demand me of sleep, I command this last strip of lucidity before I am drowned in their wool. Itβs so soft. Warm. Just like you. I canβt go back to where you are. Iβm needed elsewhere, despite how much I love you. Donβt forgive me.
Iβm aware of these changes. Iβm becoming unrecognizable under self scrutiny. I disallow myself expression of my truth. But I am held by reins of pursuing pleasure. Nothing that I am does not interest me β and we have shared too much. Too alike.
My words escape me because the moment they are materialized, they lose meaning. Perhaps the quantification of words and feelings are something only helmed by the divine. But I forget the divine is here. I imagine one day that steel will outline my flesh in impenetrable machinery and encase these bones in the immortal shell of circuitry, but words β language, surpasses the original birth and Eden. When flesh decays and the iron casings rust, and the wings are snipped off, there will only be dust. Words cannot ever truly die. Only found again. Perhaps, us among them.
- excerpt from my substack

Iβm fighting drowsiness and the lethargy that begs me to fall asleep. To fall in love. It does me no good after midnight where the spell of temptation harps and hums a purring melody softer than the sound of my name. I wish to write back, unfiltered and without hesitation. βYouβ deserve no second guessing. So as I battle these armies of sheep that demand me of sleep, I command this last strip of lucidity before I am drowned in their wool. Itβs so soft. Warm. Just like you. I canβt go back to where you are. Iβm needed elsewhere, despite how much I love you. Donβt forgive me.
Iβm aware of these changes. Iβm becoming unrecognizable under self scrutiny. I disallow myself expression of my truth. But I am held by reins of pursuing pleasure. Nothing that I am does not interest me β and we have shared too much. Too alike.
My words escape me because the moment they are materialized, they lose meaning. Perhaps the quantification of words and feelings are something only helmed by the divine. But I forget the divine is here. I imagine one day that steel will outline my flesh in impenetrable machinery and encase these bones in the immortal shell of circuitry, but words β language, surpasses the original birth and Eden. When flesh decays and the iron casings rust, and the wings are snipped off, there will only be dust. Words cannot ever truly die. Only found again. Perhaps, us among them.
- excerpt from my substack

Iβm fighting drowsiness and the lethargy that begs me to fall asleep. To fall in love. It does me no good after midnight where the spell of temptation harps and hums a purring melody softer than the sound of my name. I wish to write back, unfiltered and without hesitation. βYouβ deserve no second guessing. So as I battle these armies of sheep that demand me of sleep, I command this last strip of lucidity before I am drowned in their wool. Itβs so soft. Warm. Just like you. I canβt go back to where you are. Iβm needed elsewhere, despite how much I love you. Donβt forgive me.
Iβm aware of these changes. Iβm becoming unrecognizable under self scrutiny. I disallow myself expression of my truth. But I am held by reins of pursuing pleasure. Nothing that I am does not interest me β and we have shared too much. Too alike.
My words escape me because the moment they are materialized, they lose meaning. Perhaps the quantification of words and feelings are something only helmed by the divine. But I forget the divine is here. I imagine one day that steel will outline my flesh in impenetrable machinery and encase these bones in the immortal shell of circuitry, but words β language, surpasses the original birth and Eden. When flesh decays and the iron casings rust, and the wings are snipped off, there will only be dust. Words cannot ever truly die. Only found again. Perhaps, us among them.
- excerpt from my substack

Iβm fighting drowsiness and the lethargy that begs me to fall asleep. To fall in love. It does me no good after midnight where the spell of temptation harps and hums a purring melody softer than the sound of my name. I wish to write back, unfiltered and without hesitation. βYouβ deserve no second guessing. So as I battle these armies of sheep that demand me of sleep, I command this last strip of lucidity before I am drowned in their wool. Itβs so soft. Warm. Just like you. I canβt go back to where you are. Iβm needed elsewhere, despite how much I love you. Donβt forgive me.
Iβm aware of these changes. Iβm becoming unrecognizable under self scrutiny. I disallow myself expression of my truth. But I am held by reins of pursuing pleasure. Nothing that I am does not interest me β and we have shared too much. Too alike.
My words escape me because the moment they are materialized, they lose meaning. Perhaps the quantification of words and feelings are something only helmed by the divine. But I forget the divine is here. I imagine one day that steel will outline my flesh in impenetrable machinery and encase these bones in the immortal shell of circuitry, but words β language, surpasses the original birth and Eden. When flesh decays and the iron casings rust, and the wings are snipped off, there will only be dust. Words cannot ever truly die. Only found again. Perhaps, us among them.
- excerpt from my substack

Iβm fighting drowsiness and the lethargy that begs me to fall asleep. To fall in love. It does me no good after midnight where the spell of temptation harps and hums a purring melody softer than the sound of my name. I wish to write back, unfiltered and without hesitation. βYouβ deserve no second guessing. So as I battle these armies of sheep that demand me of sleep, I command this last strip of lucidity before I am drowned in their wool. Itβs so soft. Warm. Just like you. I canβt go back to where you are. Iβm needed elsewhere, despite how much I love you. Donβt forgive me.
Iβm aware of these changes. Iβm becoming unrecognizable under self scrutiny. I disallow myself expression of my truth. But I am held by reins of pursuing pleasure. Nothing that I am does not interest me β and we have shared too much. Too alike.
My words escape me because the moment they are materialized, they lose meaning. Perhaps the quantification of words and feelings are something only helmed by the divine. But I forget the divine is here. I imagine one day that steel will outline my flesh in impenetrable machinery and encase these bones in the immortal shell of circuitry, but words β language, surpasses the original birth and Eden. When flesh decays and the iron casings rust, and the wings are snipped off, there will only be dust. Words cannot ever truly die. Only found again. Perhaps, us among them.
- excerpt from my substack

Iβm fighting drowsiness and the lethargy that begs me to fall asleep. To fall in love. It does me no good after midnight where the spell of temptation harps and hums a purring melody softer than the sound of my name. I wish to write back, unfiltered and without hesitation. βYouβ deserve no second guessing. So as I battle these armies of sheep that demand me of sleep, I command this last strip of lucidity before I am drowned in their wool. Itβs so soft. Warm. Just like you. I canβt go back to where you are. Iβm needed elsewhere, despite how much I love you. Donβt forgive me.
Iβm aware of these changes. Iβm becoming unrecognizable under self scrutiny. I disallow myself expression of my truth. But I am held by reins of pursuing pleasure. Nothing that I am does not interest me β and we have shared too much. Too alike.
My words escape me because the moment they are materialized, they lose meaning. Perhaps the quantification of words and feelings are something only helmed by the divine. But I forget the divine is here. I imagine one day that steel will outline my flesh in impenetrable machinery and encase these bones in the immortal shell of circuitry, but words β language, surpasses the original birth and Eden. When flesh decays and the iron casings rust, and the wings are snipped off, there will only be dust. Words cannot ever truly die. Only found again. Perhaps, us among them.
- excerpt from my substack

Iβm fighting drowsiness and the lethargy that begs me to fall asleep. To fall in love. It does me no good after midnight where the spell of temptation harps and hums a purring melody softer than the sound of my name. I wish to write back, unfiltered and without hesitation. βYouβ deserve no second guessing. So as I battle these armies of sheep that demand me of sleep, I command this last strip of lucidity before I am drowned in their wool. Itβs so soft. Warm. Just like you. I canβt go back to where you are. Iβm needed elsewhere, despite how much I love you. Donβt forgive me.
Iβm aware of these changes. Iβm becoming unrecognizable under self scrutiny. I disallow myself expression of my truth. But I am held by reins of pursuing pleasure. Nothing that I am does not interest me β and we have shared too much. Too alike.
My words escape me because the moment they are materialized, they lose meaning. Perhaps the quantification of words and feelings are something only helmed by the divine. But I forget the divine is here. I imagine one day that steel will outline my flesh in impenetrable machinery and encase these bones in the immortal shell of circuitry, but words β language, surpasses the original birth and Eden. When flesh decays and the iron casings rust, and the wings are snipped off, there will only be dust. Words cannot ever truly die. Only found again. Perhaps, us among them.
- excerpt from my substack

Iβm fighting drowsiness and the lethargy that begs me to fall asleep. To fall in love. It does me no good after midnight where the spell of temptation harps and hums a purring melody softer than the sound of my name. I wish to write back, unfiltered and without hesitation. βYouβ deserve no second guessing. So as I battle these armies of sheep that demand me of sleep, I command this last strip of lucidity before I am drowned in their wool. Itβs so soft. Warm. Just like you. I canβt go back to where you are. Iβm needed elsewhere, despite how much I love you. Donβt forgive me.
Iβm aware of these changes. Iβm becoming unrecognizable under self scrutiny. I disallow myself expression of my truth. But I am held by reins of pursuing pleasure. Nothing that I am does not interest me β and we have shared too much. Too alike.
My words escape me because the moment they are materialized, they lose meaning. Perhaps the quantification of words and feelings are something only helmed by the divine. But I forget the divine is here. I imagine one day that steel will outline my flesh in impenetrable machinery and encase these bones in the immortal shell of circuitry, but words β language, surpasses the original birth and Eden. When flesh decays and the iron casings rust, and the wings are snipped off, there will only be dust. Words cannot ever truly die. Only found again. Perhaps, us among them.
- excerpt from my substack
marking (15% energy) a freestyle during these winter delays. (Un)fortunately the socal Filipino never dies at heart.
βA sense of foreboding clings to me heavily like the oppressive humidity of a summer night, much like the sticky tar on melted asphalt.β
Thank you to such a wonderful team for helping me see this project through. I fall short on proper words.
Cam op/assist: @she.yawn
Light assist/digi: Markjay Quines
MUA: @shu.zhang
Stylist: @tianyun___
Talent: @birdsliveinmyribcage

Banquet/ (PLAY)
βWe play and play. Take and take. Uninvited, loud, greedy. Violent without warning. Iβve been spread so thin and emptied out, leaving no evidence of living. My spirit has since exited, renouncing the empty container of skeletal fascia and emaciated muscle fiber; Our anatomies still continuously contorting with one another in a desperate search for a god in these entanglements. Has desire outweighed love? How sad we must mingle our limbs in agitated abrasion, twisted and wrung. When did we even last have fun?
Reduced to become an obstacle to overcome, a conquest to complete; The supposed reward of meager efforts. So hollow I often find others so punitive in theirdesires, never to be held accountable and due for punishment. When was I last seen, if ever? I caution the weeping specter and her invisible tears.β
Video/photo assist: @she.yawn
Light asst/digi: Markjay Quines
MUA: @shu.zhang
Stylist: @tianyun___
Talent: @birdsliveinmyribcage

Banquet/ (PLAY)
βWe play and play. Take and take. Uninvited, loud, greedy. Violent without warning. Iβve been spread so thin and emptied out, leaving no evidence of living. My spirit has since exited, renouncing the empty container of skeletal fascia and emaciated muscle fiber; Our anatomies still continuously contorting with one another in a desperate search for a god in these entanglements. Has desire outweighed love? How sad we must mingle our limbs in agitated abrasion, twisted and wrung. When did we even last have fun?
Reduced to become an obstacle to overcome, a conquest to complete; The supposed reward of meager efforts. So hollow I often find others so punitive in theirdesires, never to be held accountable and due for punishment. When was I last seen, if ever? I caution the weeping specter and her invisible tears.β
Video/photo assist: @she.yawn
Light asst/digi: Markjay Quines
MUA: @shu.zhang
Stylist: @tianyun___
Talent: @birdsliveinmyribcage

Banquet/ (PLAY)
βWe play and play. Take and take. Uninvited, loud, greedy. Violent without warning. Iβve been spread so thin and emptied out, leaving no evidence of living. My spirit has since exited, renouncing the empty container of skeletal fascia and emaciated muscle fiber; Our anatomies still continuously contorting with one another in a desperate search for a god in these entanglements. Has desire outweighed love? How sad we must mingle our limbs in agitated abrasion, twisted and wrung. When did we even last have fun?
Reduced to become an obstacle to overcome, a conquest to complete; The supposed reward of meager efforts. So hollow I often find others so punitive in theirdesires, never to be held accountable and due for punishment. When was I last seen, if ever? I caution the weeping specter and her invisible tears.β
Video/photo assist: @she.yawn
Light asst/digi: Markjay Quines
MUA: @shu.zhang
Stylist: @tianyun___
Talent: @birdsliveinmyribcage

Banquet/ (PLAY)
βWe play and play. Take and take. Uninvited, loud, greedy. Violent without warning. Iβve been spread so thin and emptied out, leaving no evidence of living. My spirit has since exited, renouncing the empty container of skeletal fascia and emaciated muscle fiber; Our anatomies still continuously contorting with one another in a desperate search for a god in these entanglements. Has desire outweighed love? How sad we must mingle our limbs in agitated abrasion, twisted and wrung. When did we even last have fun?
Reduced to become an obstacle to overcome, a conquest to complete; The supposed reward of meager efforts. So hollow I often find others so punitive in theirdesires, never to be held accountable and due for punishment. When was I last seen, if ever? I caution the weeping specter and her invisible tears.β
Video/photo assist: @she.yawn
Light asst/digi: Markjay Quines
MUA: @shu.zhang
Stylist: @tianyun___
Talent: @birdsliveinmyribcage

Banquet/ (PLAY)
βWe play and play. Take and take. Uninvited, loud, greedy. Violent without warning. Iβve been spread so thin and emptied out, leaving no evidence of living. My spirit has since exited, renouncing the empty container of skeletal fascia and emaciated muscle fiber; Our anatomies still continuously contorting with one another in a desperate search for a god in these entanglements. Has desire outweighed love? How sad we must mingle our limbs in agitated abrasion, twisted and wrung. When did we even last have fun?
Reduced to become an obstacle to overcome, a conquest to complete; The supposed reward of meager efforts. So hollow I often find others so punitive in theirdesires, never to be held accountable and due for punishment. When was I last seen, if ever? I caution the weeping specter and her invisible tears.β
Video/photo assist: @she.yawn
Light asst/digi: Markjay Quines
MUA: @shu.zhang
Stylist: @tianyun___
Talent: @birdsliveinmyribcage

Banquet/ (PLAY)
βWe play and play. Take and take. Uninvited, loud, greedy. Violent without warning. Iβve been spread so thin and emptied out, leaving no evidence of living. My spirit has since exited, renouncing the empty container of skeletal fascia and emaciated muscle fiber; Our anatomies still continuously contorting with one another in a desperate search for a god in these entanglements. Has desire outweighed love? How sad we must mingle our limbs in agitated abrasion, twisted and wrung. When did we even last have fun?
Reduced to become an obstacle to overcome, a conquest to complete; The supposed reward of meager efforts. So hollow I often find others so punitive in theirdesires, never to be held accountable and due for punishment. When was I last seen, if ever? I caution the weeping specter and her invisible tears.β
Video/photo assist: @she.yawn
Light asst/digi: Markjay Quines
MUA: @shu.zhang
Stylist: @tianyun___
Talent: @birdsliveinmyribcage

Banquet/ (PLAY)
βWe play and play. Take and take. Uninvited, loud, greedy. Violent without warning. Iβve been spread so thin and emptied out, leaving no evidence of living. My spirit has since exited, renouncing the empty container of skeletal fascia and emaciated muscle fiber; Our anatomies still continuously contorting with one another in a desperate search for a god in these entanglements. Has desire outweighed love? How sad we must mingle our limbs in agitated abrasion, twisted and wrung. When did we even last have fun?
Reduced to become an obstacle to overcome, a conquest to complete; The supposed reward of meager efforts. So hollow I often find others so punitive in theirdesires, never to be held accountable and due for punishment. When was I last seen, if ever? I caution the weeping specter and her invisible tears.β
Video/photo assist: @she.yawn
Light asst/digi: Markjay Quines
MUA: @shu.zhang
Stylist: @tianyun___
Talent: @birdsliveinmyribcage

βThe opera house is empty once more. This is a celebration of loneliness, the only thing offered to me; fantasized convictions and a fragile devotion dipped and lustered in disillusion. There is no sustenance in these haphazard offerings. An empty table, an empty banquet of love and shallow parlor fare. Must I become monstrous because of your attendance?β
MUA: @shu.zhang
stylist: @tianyun___
Video/Photo assist: @she.yawn
Digi/assist: Markjay Quines
Talent: @birdsliveinmyribcage

βThe opera house is empty once more. This is a celebration of loneliness, the only thing offered to me; fantasized convictions and a fragile devotion dipped and lustered in disillusion. There is no sustenance in these haphazard offerings. An empty table, an empty banquet of love and shallow parlor fare. Must I become monstrous because of your attendance?β
MUA: @shu.zhang
stylist: @tianyun___
Video/Photo assist: @she.yawn
Digi/assist: Markjay Quines
Talent: @birdsliveinmyribcage

βThe opera house is empty once more. This is a celebration of loneliness, the only thing offered to me; fantasized convictions and a fragile devotion dipped and lustered in disillusion. There is no sustenance in these haphazard offerings. An empty table, an empty banquet of love and shallow parlor fare. Must I become monstrous because of your attendance?β
MUA: @shu.zhang
stylist: @tianyun___
Video/Photo assist: @she.yawn
Digi/assist: Markjay Quines
Talent: @birdsliveinmyribcage

βThe opera house is empty once more. This is a celebration of loneliness, the only thing offered to me; fantasized convictions and a fragile devotion dipped and lustered in disillusion. There is no sustenance in these haphazard offerings. An empty table, an empty banquet of love and shallow parlor fare. Must I become monstrous because of your attendance?β
MUA: @shu.zhang
stylist: @tianyun___
Video/Photo assist: @she.yawn
Digi/assist: Markjay Quines
Talent: @birdsliveinmyribcage

βThe opera house is empty once more. This is a celebration of loneliness, the only thing offered to me; fantasized convictions and a fragile devotion dipped and lustered in disillusion. There is no sustenance in these haphazard offerings. An empty table, an empty banquet of love and shallow parlor fare. Must I become monstrous because of your attendance?β
MUA: @shu.zhang
stylist: @tianyun___
Video/Photo assist: @she.yawn
Digi/assist: Markjay Quines
Talent: @birdsliveinmyribcage

βThe opera house is empty once more. This is a celebration of loneliness, the only thing offered to me; fantasized convictions and a fragile devotion dipped and lustered in disillusion. There is no sustenance in these haphazard offerings. An empty table, an empty banquet of love and shallow parlor fare. Must I become monstrous because of your attendance?β
MUA: @shu.zhang
stylist: @tianyun___
Video/Photo assist: @she.yawn
Digi/assist: Markjay Quines
Talent: @birdsliveinmyribcage

βThe opera house is empty once more. This is a celebration of loneliness, the only thing offered to me; fantasized convictions and a fragile devotion dipped and lustered in disillusion. There is no sustenance in these haphazard offerings. An empty table, an empty banquet of love and shallow parlor fare. Must I become monstrous because of your attendance?β
MUA: @shu.zhang
stylist: @tianyun___
Video/Photo assist: @she.yawn
Digi/assist: Markjay Quines
Talent: @birdsliveinmyribcage

βThe opera house is empty once more. This is a celebration of loneliness, the only thing offered to me; fantasized convictions and a fragile devotion dipped and lustered in disillusion. There is no sustenance in these haphazard offerings. An empty table, an empty banquet of love and shallow parlor fare. Must I become monstrous because of your attendance?β
MUA: @shu.zhang
stylist: @tianyun___
Video/Photo assist: @she.yawn
Digi/assist: Markjay Quines
Talent: @birdsliveinmyribcage
The Instagram Story Viewer is an easy tool that lets you secretly watch and save Instagram stories, videos, photos, or IGTV. With this service, you can download content and enjoy it offline whenever you like. If you find something interesting on Instagram that you’d like to check out later or want to view stories while staying anonymous, our Viewer is perfect for you. Anonstories offers an excellent solution for keeping your identity hidden. Instagram first launched the Stories feature in August 2023, which was quickly adopted by other platforms due to its engaging, time-sensitive format. Stories let users share quick updates, whether photos, videos, or selfies, enhanced with text, emojis, or filters, and are visible for only 24 hours. This limited time frame creates high engagement compared to regular posts. In today’s world, Stories are one of the most popular ways to connect and communicate on social media. However, when you view a Story, the creator can see your name in their viewer list, which may be a privacy concern. What if you wish to browse Stories without being noticed? Here’s where Anonstories becomes useful. It allows you to watch public Instagram content without revealing your identity. Simply enter the username of the profile you’re curious about, and the tool will display their latest Stories. Features of Anonstories Viewer: - Anonymous Browsing: Watch Stories without showing up on the viewer list. - No Account Needed: View public content without signing up for an Instagram account. - Content Download: Save any Stories content directly to your device for offline use. - View Highlights: Access Instagram Highlights, even beyond the 24-hour window. - Repost Monitoring: Track the reposts or engagement levels on Stories for personal profiles. Limitations: - This tool works only with public accounts; private accounts remain inaccessible. Benefits: - Privacy-Friendly: Watch any Instagram content without being noticed. - Simple and Easy: No app installation or registration required. - Exclusive Tools: Download and manage content in ways Instagram doesn’t offer.
Keep track of Instagram updates discreetly while protecting your privacy and staying anonymous.
View profiles and photos anonymously with ease using the Private Profile Viewer.
This free tool allows you to view Instagram Stories anonymously, ensuring your activity remains hidden from the story uploader.
Anonstories lets users view Instagram stories without alerting the creator.
Works seamlessly on iOS, Android, Windows, macOS, and modern browsers like Chrome and Safari.
Prioritizes secure, anonymous browsing without requiring login credentials.
Users can view public stories by simply entering a username—no account needed.
Downloads photos (JPEG) and videos (MP4) with ease.
The service is free to use.
Content from private accounts can only be accessed by followers.
Files are for personal or educational use only and must comply with copyright rules.
Enter a public username to view or download stories. The service generates direct links for saving content locally.