Born on a Friday the 13th, my trajectory was perhaps always destined to lean toward the unconventional. At seventeen, I find myself occupying the space between two worlds: the vibrant islands of the Philippines and the rugged landscapes of New Zealand. This dual heritage has fostered a specific kind of analytical lens, one that finds a haunting beauty in the grotesque and the macabre.

While my peers may look toward the digital future, I'm preoccupied with the evidence of the past. My ultimate ambition lies within the yellow tape of a crime scene. As an aspiring CSI, I'm fascinated by the stories that only the dead can tell. The forensic precision required to decode a silent narrative is, to me, the highest form of art.

On The Paddock

When the distortion pedals are switched off, the telemetry comes on. Formula 1 is my secondary obsession. I find a similar forensic beauty in the sport; every skid mark on the asphalt is a piece of evidence. Max Verstappen is my favorite driver for a reason. He's ruthless, uncompromising, and operates with a surgical precision that mirrors a CSI's work.

The Top 10 Songs Chart

Fig 1.1: Subject Alianna, showcasing the Mod-inspired aesthetic favored for daily operations.

If time travel were a technical reality, you would find me in London, circa 1995. Britpop has officially taken over my life. Oasis is my religion and Liam is the only frontman that matters. However, the forensic study of the era wouldn't be complete without the guitar work of Graham Coxon (Blur) or the voyeuristic lyricism of Jarvis Cocker (Pulp).

My sonic palate is anchored in the heavy hitters of the 60s and 70s. The Beatles and Fleetwood Mac provide the foundational harmonies. Yet, the raw, unfiltered energy of Hole remains my favorite American export. Courtney Love's "Live Through This" era is a constant reference point for my own creative output.

The Mod & The Modern

My aesthetic is a collision of eras. I'm deeply entrenched in the Mod scene. There's something about the sharp silhouettes, the subcultural pride, and the vintage fashion of the 60s that feels more "me" than anything the 21st century has produced. I find myself constantly hunting for pieces that feel like they belonged on Carnaby Street.

However, I'm not a total prisoner of the past. I find a modern solace in the dream-pop frequencies of Magdalena Bay and the cinematic, tragic-glamour of Lana Del Rey. They are the "modern" to my "mod," providing the soundtrack to my late-night drawing sessions and CSI studies.

The Long-Play Audit