Designer: Manikka
Resources: 1 2 3

Don't give me straight-shot answers; present to me a revolution. I have no use for your flawless faces or picture-perfect smiles; what good to me is a lifeless vocation that seems to penetrate beyond Truth, beyond emotion, beyond anything that we used to stand so firmly, for? What I need is your hair pulled into a tangle at my touch, your face smeared, your path uncleared; what I desire so badly is to make a complete disaster out of every ounce of light you radiate. I can't stand to watch you sparkle, or glow like those prehistoric toys our parents used to stick onto our ceilings. Honey, you're a satellite waiting to combust.


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