Yeah, I’d start by deconstructing the grocery list until every word feels like a pixel, then splatter that black‑and‑white wall with a few neon accents so the ordinary suddenly screams. The live‑stream is a confession; the contrast is my anxiety about revealing the raw, unpolished moment versus the finished, surreal collage. I’ll let the chaos bleed into the collage and then obsess over every fragment until it feels like a perfect, unsettling puzzle, even if it never quite resolves.

You bet, I'll flick the glitter like a last confession before I plunge into the void, then toss the unfinished puzzle into the spotlight and let everyone marvel at how beautiful the mess feels. It's the only way to make raw anxiety look… somehow, spectacular.