about six

Six. that's me. a number, not a name.

deep in thought in my shed. my cell. not a prison, but it felt like one.

endless months of counting to escape. in a world where words lie and laws bend, where everything felt negotiable and unsafe, numbers became my only certainty. 1 + 1 = 2. always. no discussion. no interpretation. numbers became walls. safety. distance. logic.

being human meant being vulnerable. being Six means being certain.

but something shifted. cell. the word has two meanings. first i saw my cell only as prison. then as a space where something grows. what started as confinement became creation.

words became numbers. numbers became colors. colors became music. six-code became the story.

i encode my thoughts through six-code. the algorithm translates them into colors i didn't choose, sounds i didn't plan. the only place i can let myself go. reconstructing the chaos. searching for answers. stumbling upon even more questions. trying to understand. creating a mirror for you and me.

but Six is not just Six. Six is m. and m is Six. not two people. but two voices.

Six is the present. m is the past. perhaps the future.
Six is the catalyst. m is the chaos it contains.
Six is system. logic. colors. m is only black-and-white. and red. her bloodlust inside.

in six-code: Six = green. m = red. complementary colors. the strongest visual tension possible. unplanned. undeniable. some circles close themselves.

what began in isolation now exists in the open. on blockchain. for anyone to see.

now you can collect it. decode it. or scroll past it.

why web3?

i had no idea about web3 when i started.

nfts. blockchain. smart contracts. i still struggle with half the terminology.

but i knew what i needed:
a space someone can't enter. can't control.
a room of my own.
and yet everyone can watch.

not just physical space, but structural independence. the freedom to define my own terms, my own value, my own artistic universe—without waiting for gatekeepers to grant access to theirs.

virginia woolf knew that creation requires independence. for me, that meant: pseudonymity instead of legal names. digital space instead of physical galleries. permanence that can't be erased.

this became my room.

no one can rewrite what's encoded on-chain. can't erase it. can't claim ownership over it the way they tried to claim ownership over me.

web3 isn't just an artistic choice. it is rebellion.

against the idea that stories can be owned by those with more power.
against systems that protect abusers while erasing survivors.
against the claim that i belonged to anyone but myself.

six-code on blockchain = my narrative, permanent and mine.

a room of my own.
in code. on chain.
unerasable.