Glitch IV

Glitch IV

What if every decision we make creates one reality
while silently preserving hundreds of others?

The city where we never lived.
The person we never loved.
The risk we never took.
The conversation that never happened.

The precise moment when we could have become someone else
and chose instead to remain recognizable.
We comfort ourselves by believing those possibilities disappeared,
that they were erased simply because they never came to pass.

GLITCH IV proposes something considerably more unsettling:
What if they NEVER disappeared?

Perhaps there is an invisible accumulation of everything we might have been.
A residual psychological energy generated by interrupted identities,
contained desires, deferred decisions, and futures that once came
close enough to feel possible.

In GLITCH IV, the portal no longer functions as an entry into another reality.
The direction has been reversed. Something from that other possibility
is exerting pressure on this one.

The vast central void appears silent,
yet its core contradicts that stillness.
Something emerges with volume, density, and visual violence;
matter suspended at the exact instant it crosses
a boundary never designed to let it through.

Perhaps that energy… IS YOU.

Not the you who exists,
but the Other. The Other Self.

The version of you who made the decision you did not dare to make.
The one who left when you stayed.
The one who said yes when you said no.
The one who destroyed an identity you chose to protect
in order to discover how far it could go.

Here, the true psychological violence of the work begins.

What would happen if you could come face to face
with the person you might have become?

Because there is an even more disturbing possibility:
that this other version of you may have evolved far beyond
the identity you now recognize as your own.

What part of myself did I have to sacrifice to become who I am TODAY?

Around the portal, color registers that fracture.

Yellow does not illuminate: it interrupts.
It erupts like a discharge of consciousness
within a system struggling to preserve coherence,
while blues and turquoises introduce a cold frequency,
distant, almost extraterrestrial, like fragments of a logic
we have not yet learned to interpret.

Among them, flashes of orange ignite:
small episodes of combustion, friction,
and matter undergoing transformation.

Beneath that chromatic activity persists a mixture of red and black
that initially registers simply as darkness.

But the red never disappears.
It remains latent as violence,
memory, and compressed impulse
beneath a surface struggling to contain it.

That ambiguity transforms the background into psychological territory.

In GLITCH IV, darkness ceases to be absence
and becomes a PORTAL into an energy
that exists beyond the limits of our consciousness.