VYEL Saga

“ɪᴛ ᴋᴇᴇᴘꜱ ɢᴏɪɴɢ. ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ.
ᴡᴇ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ɢᴏɪɴɢ. ᴅᴇꜱᴘɪᴛᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ.”
—ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇᴛʜᴇʀᴇᴅ
🖤💄📺🧠💔💥⛓️

10/01/2026

Ah yes… relationships. You know, that thing humans tend to do when they like each other enough to sacrifice peace and stability for someone that looked at you a second too long? Yeah. That thing.
That thousand year old farce.

Listen, I think it’s great that people are still trying to hold onto some form of humanity in an age where that seems to become less and less of a thing. But at the same time, with the online world brainwashing anyone and everything, with the straitjacket that comes after the resentment inevitably arrives, to everything never being enough because your algorithm told you your partner should be ‘better’ rather than just fu***ng talking to them about your concerns yourself, I find myself jaded on the subject.

I think of love these days as a bird with blades for wings. Try holding onto that now why don’t ya.
There’s no fear of it on my end, more just a “this is all just really dumb.”
I wanted to find love again after all the wreckage, but reaching for anything just showed me I was talking to ghosts the entire time, further pushing on my fragile sense of reality until it reached a point I was convinced I was in Hell.

I think things can be admired from a distance now, and besides… way less to lose when you keep things friendly anyway. I have no intent on pursuing romance anymore in this current state of the world. Time has taught me that anyone who stands close enough to me becomes burnt anyway, so at some point you just have to accept some things just aren’t meant for you. And that’s fine! Because there are plenty of other things to find meaning in anyway. Having another human being tell me they love me means little now. Words always turn to dust.

Always.

And if that makes me broken and easy to scoff at, so be it. I’m sure, you also being human, have plenty of things within you that others deem as ridiculous, so how about you stick to facing your own demons before facing mine. You damn well know you have them. People have always loved filling in the gaps for me, so what is a voice when you don’t even have a mouth.

09/29/2026

my characters are hotter than urs x

Also, in a world without any fkn meaning, I sure as hell made meaning appear in every nook and cranny. The backgrounds are never an accident.

VYEL, to me, has helped me remember who I am over a lifetime of identity issues and people pleasing. Because I lost myself in others, I never had time to acknowledge myself fully because I would lose myself in women, bad eggs, and people I really just should have punched in the mouth. So throughout the process of gathering journal entries, dreams, and diving into my subconscious, I have also been collecting emotional fragments of places where I felt like VYEL was taking shape over the course of my life. Places deemed as condemned by most and liminal to others are somehow the places where I felt most at home.

Parking decks. Malls just before they close. Blockbuster aisles. Cathedral exteriors. Train platforms, etc. places to easily overlook, but to me they represent little pieces of VYEL’s emotional fragmentation. I based this entire bloody thing off of feelings, not logic, so I’ve had to dissect these emotions and turn them into canon somehow.

Day by day, I’m remembering Josh, and it’s all because of VYEL. It’s been an ugly and gruelling process that no one is ever going to fully understand because they will only see the finished product. The actors. The screen time. The thirst trap edits. But the tears have been very real. The tics I got when I started to remember. The isolation and alienation would have cracked most, and now people are starting to notice the signal flare.
Strange, innit, how remembering myself can attract others who too feel the same glitch and fracture from within.

But if you too feel the glitch, then welcome home, I guess.
It’s pretty messy in here… the tethered will absolutely steal your lighter…
but hey… at least you don’t have to pay taxes.

09/27/2026

Many people think that the end has to be all doom and gloom, but I’d like to counter that. I think when something ends, whether that be a society, a relationship, or anything in between, I think that there is something beautiful yet to show its face in the debris.

Every empire has an expiration date, much like flesh. Saying goodbye to old systems to make way for what comes next can be devastating, but it can also be beautiful. But with that being said, who documents the end? What survives the fall? What gets archived and what gets burned?

Enter The Wane Watchers; a cult of Sanctum that is dedicated to watching the end unravel in real time. Interfering with fate is against their nature. They are true neutrality, drawing and documenting everything Sanctum goes through in order to archive the process of the apocalypse.
In Sanctum, you are constantly being monitored. Recorded. Broadcasted. That feeling you get of being watched is ontological here. There is always something behind you.
Sometimes hostile. Other times, just to record.

Legend has it that a nun once saw her reflection age by 90 years right before her eyes, only in shadow. She never spoke again… she just started drawing.
The Wane Watchers followed.

09/24/2026

ROGUE_BROADCAST_NULL_SECTOR

09/22/2026

If humanity could s**u for the next 200 years that would be dope.

09/18/2026

I’ve given up on giving a s**t now. The world will always be broken. It was like that before me, and it’ll be like that after me. I always tried to be someone who would give everyone a chance to be heard. I tried being a ‘yes man’ after years of avoiding people like the plague, which only ended up in me carrying so many people’s unhealed bulls**t like I was some broken saviour. I lost myself.

Caring is hard. Really fu***ng hard. For years I would carry the burdens of the world on my shoulders because I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to find meaning in the debris of the s**t I went through. I wanted every moment to count. But the fact of the matter is, none of it actually really matters at all. We spend lifetimes chasing our own tails trying to make sense of the world around us, which sounds cute on paper, until you’re lying awake each and every night sorting through it, whilst also carrying the weight of others on you like a wooden cross.

I’m done with it. I still care, deeply. But to an extent for others. Not everything is meant to matter this fu***ng much. The world is going to do what it’s going to do. People are so in love with their loops and misery and that is never going to change. I can change myself and do the best I can and hopefully inspire others around me to do the same. I can engage in deep conversations with others but only if I too am being asked questions.

Energy is sacred. We aren’t meant to give it out all so willingly. Surrender control to God. Control only what you actually can, and that really isn’t much at all. Whatever. There is peace in that anyway.
You are nobody’s saviour or doormat.
Break the loop, before the loop breaks you.

09/13/2026

Understand, that who is unfortunate enough to read this, that you have stumbled into a world full of contradictions and paradoxes. A world where everyone talks so easily but executes so vaguely, if that at all. If meaning, as it has become today, is void of all worth, then what does the flesh contain? We become empty vessels that essentially carry our own meaning and apply that to each and every other fracture we see in others.

I see it like trading pieces of broken ceramic vases. I carry around my broken pieces to exchange a piece with someone else’s broken piece that then represents a whole. When assembling the vase again at the end of every day, some pieces don’t fit as well as they did before, so the search continues until the vase is fully assembled again.
Only problem is, it is no longer the same vase. It becomes this Frankenstein’s monster looking thing pieced together by everyone else’s pieces but yours.

There is a beauty in this analogy, as well as an ugly truth; we collect pieces of other people after we become broken to make sense of the fracture and to reassemble our identities, but we are no longer fully ourselves anymore either. We become lost in the identities of others because that is the only time we are perceived and thus ‘real’.
Sartre would love it here.

We must prepare accordingly to sort through the wreckage of the next collapse. Existentialism will be your dearest friend. No one will hand you meaning but yourself.
Do you chase ghosts? Do you gain further knowledge? Do you keep fighting? Or do you lay down and let the world bury you?
It’s up to us, each and every day to create a home in a world where that world is becoming less and less tangible.

Stay wired.

09/09/2026

“You wanted to create something that meant something. You never asked what it would cost. Sanity. Love. Years. Eventually, you.”
—Some human with intent

09/06/2026

VYEL was never meant to live on the internet forever. The internet was the place we entered the conversation. It was where we found one another, where we learned, experimented, questioned, created, destroyed, rebuilt and broadcast ourselves into the noise. But eventually, you have to ask what all that noise is for.

There is a strange point at which a tool becomes an environment. We stopped going online and started living there. We began carrying the architecture of the internet into our minds, our relationships, our politics, our identities, our attention. Everything became immediate. Everything became content. Everything became measurable. And somewhere along the way, being connected became indistinguishable from being alive.

VYEL doesn’t want that. The endgame was never to build another permanent digital world for people to disappear into, but to use the digital world as a bridge back toward something more tangible.
Paper.
Film.
Paint.
Books.
Music played in rooms.
Conversations that aren’t recorded.
Places that don’t have Wi-Fi.
Communities that don’t require algorithms to find one another.
Work that can exist without being uploaded.
Experiences that don’t need an audience.
Analog living isn’t nostalgia for a past that never existed. I’m asking for a deliberate reclamation of presence.

Eventually, VYEL wants to switch the internet off. Sounds mythical, right? Not because the internet failed… in a strange way, it succeeded. It connected us so completely that we forgot what it meant to be somewhere. So the final act of VYEL will not be another post, another platform, another notification, another attempt to keep your attention for five more minutes.
It will be silence.
The collapse of something already showing signs of wear.
And then, hopefully, life.

If VYEL has done what it was supposed to do, you won’t need to find us there anymore. You’ll find each other somewhere else. Make something. Go somewhere. Talk to someone. Build something with your hands. Get lost without a map. Sit in a room with people and let the moment happen without documenting it.
The future doesn’t have to be more connected. We’ve beaten that to death.
Maybe it just needs to be more alive.

VYEL was the signal.
The endgame is switching it off.

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Website

https://vyel-staging.b12sites.com/index

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