Paranoia — Behind the Process
Paranoia is not a project.
It’s a reaction.
To noise, to pressure, to the slow distortion of reality that modern society demands we call normal.
Each visual in Paranoia is an artifact — a fragment of something that cracked beneath the surface. Each text, a confession disguised as observation. Together, they don’t explain the world. They reveal what happens when the world becomes too loud to trust.
Paranoia — Behind the Process
Paranoia is not a project.
It’s a reaction.
To noise, to pressure, to the slow distortion of reality that modern society demands we call normal.
Each visual in Paranoia is an artifact — a fragment of something that cracked beneath the surface. Each text, a confession disguised as observation. Together, they don’t explain the world. They reveal what happens when the world becomes too loud to trust.
Aesthetic as Friction
Black and white. Grain and shadow.
These images aren’t clean — they’re uncomfortable by design. They represent the feeling of being watched, misunderstood, contained, erased.
There’s no background because there’s no escape. Just the subject, exposed.
Aesthetic as Friction
Black and white. Grain and shadow.
These images aren’t clean — they’re uncomfortable by design. They represent the feeling of being watched, misunderstood, contained, erased.
There’s no background because there’s no escape. Just the subject, exposed.
Why “Paranoia”?
Because paranoia is clarity that hurts.
It’s the moment you realize the problem isn’t you — it’s the system built around you, pretending to care.
Paranoia is the side effect of noticing too much.
This project doesn’t glorify that — it just refuses to look away.
Why “Paranoia”?
Because paranoia is clarity that hurts.
It’s the moment you realize the problem isn’t you — it’s the system built around you, pretending to care.
Paranoia is the side effect of noticing too much.
This project doesn’t glorify that — it just refuses to look away.
Symbolism, Rewired
Every symbol has been turned against itself:
The dove holds the pin to the grenade.
The crown is heavy, undeserved.
The eye doesn’t see — it isolates.
The robot is almost human, but only in sorrow.
Victory isn’t earned — it’s inherited.
What you recognize is not what it is. That’s the point.
Symbolism, Rewired
Every symbol has been turned against itself:
The dove holds the pin to the grenade.
The crown is heavy, undeserved.
The eye doesn’t see — it isolates.
The robot is almost human, but only in sorrow.
Victory isn’t earned — it’s inherited.