iiinova — where your digital self keeps evolving

hell's spires hath pierced me @metamorphoseos.bsky.social · 14/09/2026

we're watching THE MASK with jim carrey. hey what the fuck is up with this haircut

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hell's spires hath pierced me @metamorphoseos.bsky.social · 02/06/2026

hi. some guys from when i was doing brush tests and planning some 3D models #doodles

doodles of some little guys air brush style

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hell's spires hath pierced me @metamorphoseos.bsky.social · 26/05/2026

stardew valley lyotard just appeared in my suggested feed

stardew valley lyotard youtube thumbnail on the libidinal band

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hell's spires hath pierced me @metamorphoseos.bsky.social · 27/03/2026

he's not feeling so good. everyone say feel better soon bowser

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hell's spires hath pierced me @metamorphoseos.bsky.social · 08/03/2026

when ur mean to me this is who ur being mean to

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hell's spires hath pierced me @metamorphoseos.bsky.social · 19/02/2026

absolutely boss 😌 uri osprey on the former bird site

uri osprey's (user ospreys_nest) moby dick x ahab fan art of the whale and ahab kissing with the caption "happy valentine's day"

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hell's spires hath pierced me @metamorphoseos.bsky.social · 09/02/2026

crying over them bringing lady gaga out. also here is the soup i made to ease my sickness.

bean thread soup w garlic ginger fried cabbage, radish, mushrooms, and tofu with some oyster sauce

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hell's spires hath pierced me @metamorphoseos.bsky.social · 19/12/2025

does anyone know what this is. please. Anyone?

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hell's spires hath pierced me @metamorphoseos.bsky.social · 15/12/2025

welcome 2 my kitchen

$Screenshot of No's Letterboxd profile as of December 14th, 2025. Their favorite films are listed as The Wolf house, The Color of Pomegranates, Paris, Texas, and Inland Empire. Their recent activity lists You Were Never Really Here, The Eccentricities of a Blonde-Haired Girl, and two shorts by Makoto Tezuka named Model and 2001. Their recent reviews include two-- one for Puella Magi Madoka Magica reading "I remember the exact night in 2011 that I first watched Madoka. I feel almost as though, in watching it again all these years later, I might have held up my palm and caught a comet-shard of myself rippling out through time, a hundred thousand years later. I hadn't realized how much within myself I assumed had been obliterated between then and now-- I see through it all almost like a glass projection, spiraling fractals. In their faces I've found…"; the other for The Hunger Games: Mockingjay - Part 2, reading "The absolute ass of the original set of movies. Did not like her becoming a Heideggerian and having blonde babies at the end.".$

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hell's spires hath pierced me @metamorphoseos.bsky.social · 28/11/2025

okay i'm having fun sharing old art so whatever here's more

shoulder-cropped shot from the back of a person with short hair looking to the left, eyes closed

sketchy portrait of a person's head looking ahead

portrait of a person looking at the viewer, almost connecting eyes

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hell's spires hath pierced me @metamorphoseos.bsky.social · 28/11/2025

old 2 second ipad dood when i was trying to figure out how procreate works

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hell's spires hath pierced me @metamorphoseos.bsky.social · 28/11/2025

had to fix smth. anyway i was too shy to share the full scribble last time but here u go

$Beached along table sprawl intestinal pearls wreathed like streamers rolling and pooling over wooden edge. Fish-rot dreams of the open tide, glittering wet across the placemats drying rapidly under the summer sun; foolhardy, inchoate, dead desire suffocated by the clinking of furnishments, a placation here, an apology there, odious and untrusting. Weren't that I, four days dead an endless well, a fountain to soothe your raging wastes, to tame your deserts to push back the encroaching abyss with my sweet waters, free of algal blooms, those doomsday tolls, and become something new again through every dipped hand and swollen tongue. I begin to divide myself into radials, a pound of flesh for every scream, the tide haplessly tugging upon my fractured body. You say I am without worth, and sorry, and my stomach bloats, the table trembles. I could be a bird in another life rather than collapsing under all this weight of myself, drowning in dreams; my wings carrying me over the oceans. I could be the arm of a root to some great old tree, embraced by a thousand others, an anchored vascularity. The glass hits the wall and splinters wicked scythe of night, sweeping over the valleys and channels, light a toss of fractals each face a projection of possibility, jagged and razor edged, all destined for the wastebin, all discarded, all swallowed in oxygen-rich flames, all ground down to an even grit, evenly dispersed along the web of infinity, unrecognizable.$

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