A blood bank physician told me I wouldn’t live to see twenty-five.

I was eighteen.

I’ve more than doubled that deadline.

I survived a massive stroke that stole my words, my body, nearly my life—and it wouldn’t be the last rupture.

They all should have ended me.

Instead, they activated me.

Forged me.

What rose from those breaks wasn’t weakened.

It was RABID.

I am the glitch that kept transmitting—
a virus rewritten,
a queer archive of lust, rage, memory, and rebirth.

I create from the body: its desires, its scars, its survival.

My work infects the boundaries
between digital art, queer erotics, glitch ritual, trauma alchemy, and unfiltered truth.

I’m not here to be healed.
I am here to contaminate.

THE VIRUS FAILED

So, I became the contagion.

I transmit because I am still alive.

I was named by diagnosis.

HIV, STROKE, ADDICT, SURVIVOR.

Each a system’s attempt to define me, cage me, end me.

None succeeded.

The Signal Within the Strain is my voice reborn after over twenty-five years of silence.
It is crude, raw born after decades of visions I lacked the strength to realize.

It merges digital language with raw human experience.

At its center, a spectral glitch wolf—my avatar, protector, projection—rises from a crimson biohazard symbol, no longer dominant.
Now a part of me, not as a warning but as a reclaimed emblem of power: queer ferocity, viral memory, creative defiance.

The red biohazard once marked us as dangerous.

Here it radiates.

It beats like a second heart, anchoring chaos and turning stigma into signal.

Framing it all are the Airclaw Biohazards
my own symbolic language, drawn from the deadly elegance of shuriken, every line a record of fragmentation and reintegration.

Embedded kanji for Lust, Sin, and Desire burn with reclaimed meaning;
words once used to pathologize now glow as proof of survival.

And from that fire blooms the Crystal Lotus—glass and spectrum, every petal a shard of endurance.
Mutation made visible. Desire refracted until it cuts. Beauty that wounds yet evolves.

This piece speaks to anyone who was told they were
too black, too brown, too loud, too much, too strange, too damaged, too infected, too infected,
too perverse
too OTHER to last.

It refuses comfort.

It stands as living proof that survival is possible
fierce, defiant, and undiluted.

It pulses with life on the edge.

This isn’t just an artwork.

It’s a transmission.

A survival flare.

A refusal to be erased.

This is not a cure.

This is evolution.

This is The Signal Within the Strain.

I am the RABID Chemist.

Welcome Inside My Mind