EVE: SCHISM [//Fracture_02] скачать в хорошем качестве

EVE: SCHISM [//Fracture_02]

EVE: SCHISM comes from a time in my life when everything felt split down the middle. It’s about dysphoria—the quiet, constant kind. The kind that doesn’t always scream, but never really lets you rest. Feeling disconnected from your own body. From your reflection. From the version of yourself people think they see. It’s about transition, not as a “before and after,” but as something ongoing. Messy. Unfinished. Learning how to live honestly while the ground is still shifting under you. It’s also about loss. I lost my partner, someone I loved deeply, someone I shared a world with. There was no real goodbye. Just absence. And grief that didn’t have anywhere safe to land. It may have been a decade ago plus but the weight still exists. Things happened in public spaces online, where pain gets flattened into drama and context disappears. Where people talk about you instead of to you. Where real loss turns into noise. I don’t have parents or a family to fall back on. There wasn’t a place to retreat to and be held together. So I learned how to keep going on my own, even when I didn’t feel whole. There are so many weights I hold, and no one out here on the net really knows me, and if you do you know you are loved. The imagery around this project reflects that. The fractured faces aren’t meant to be symbolic puzzles—they’re how it feels to exist as multiple versions of yourself at once. Not fighting each other. Just coexisting. The black and white isn’t about being dark for the sake of it. It’s about clarity. About not softening things to make them easier to look at. The smoke, the damage, the grit—all of it comes from exhaustion, from carrying too much for too long. EVE: SCHISM isn’t asking to be understood perfectly. It’s just me documenting what it took to stay here. If any of this feels familiar to you—if you’ve lived through dysphoria, grief, isolation, or rebuilding yourself without a map—I hope this feels less like a performance and more like someone sitting beside you, saying: yeah… I know. You aren't alone. And maybe, just maybe it will be ok. -Eve