Half alive. Half gone. Completely corrupted.

One side carries the face of humanity. The other reveals the skull beneath the surface — the truth we spend our lives trying not to see. Between them, reality fractures into pixels, colour bleeds through the cracks, and the boundary between living and dying begins to dissolve.

The glitch isn't hiding the transformation. It's exposing it.

We are all caught somewhere between who we were, who we pretend to be, and what time is slowly turning us into. Flesh becomes memory. Identity becomes distortion. The face we show the world begins to break apart, revealing the inevitable truth beneath it all.

Yet there is something strangely beautiful in the corruption. Electric colours refuse to let the image die quietly. Even as the human form collapses into static, the signal fights to remain.

Perhaps the glitch is not the end of the image.

Perhaps it's what happens when life refuses to disappear without leaving a mark.

WE ALL END UP AS PIXELS. MAKE YOURS COUNT.

NO FUCKS GIVEN. WE'RE HERE TO STAY.