Janiia Williams ✹.

Lost Virgo Files: where earth and the stars collide. Each post = file capturing thoughts, feelings, art, poetry and all things creative.

God, spare me the sweet sound of soft rain in the morning

I love a part of me that no longer lives

The doe that died young and my ashes christen choking me in old age

Caution caged the party roaming wild in my heart. the new me dies much louder this time

I can no longer wait for the day i die

I refuse to be noosed to a future i cannot imagine

I love a part of me that no longer lives and the fr ee range of emotions i imprisoned

with the bitch

that was too scared to look weak

There's pain in strength and never ending sorrow

Being strong is not always so strong at all

There is weakness in a lack of vulnerability Cowardice in no tears

Fear in silence

Battle wounds never heal in darkness

I choose to die on the battlefield. It's grounding to feel the pain of your pursuits instead of the pain of dissatisfaction.

I think about the moment that I will die a lot.

Will it be peaceful? Quick? Painless? Will I die young or old? Perhaps it's like a piercing , extreme pain only for a moment that quickly passes. That puts my mind at ease.

I finally put my foot down in this world. i refuse to be the earth walked over and spat on. I am the ground, the forest, and the sky. I am the rain, the trees, and the clouds. I have left behind the treasure that's kept me together so i am forced to find value in my own jewels.

how to fill a shell. of a person? of a mind lost in times. grieving goodness. grieving pains. mourning moments that haven't happened yet.

How to protect peace unprotected? unparalleled. unprovoked. the privilege of knowing things i didn't know. the plague of knowing and knowledge. Pain should not breed empathy

Enough is enough. I can’t enjoy what I can’t withstand. I bleed passion and sop up my sorrow. In my mind, I rest. i think I've always know who i am.

I am breaking a cycle of unborn generations. An unhealthy obsession with creators and creation. i am the eulogy and the genesis. the adam and eve. i am the universe. and it lives within me

Lost Virgo Files: where earth and the stars collide. Each post = file capturing thoughts, feelings, art, poetry and all things creative.

A deadly peace

bows-shivers in- to the bitter night —night sky.

As disease permeates the brain

so is serenity.

The state where longing can be fulfilled.

Show me where the moonlight casts its whimper on the unsuspecting earth

and I show you -reveals- critters, creepy crawlers.

A sun, a sister

befriends creatures of the night

Holy and unjust

Justiced are rarely happy

The wronged are rarely punished

The torment endured is enough

Ends meet where lines are crossed, drawn

Forsake me wisdom for I have sinned.

Duly into the night I went

Seeking love, sweet -a companion-

Seeking as I may -I complain-

Dear God,

Grant me the serenity

to not light the world on fire.

Lost Virgo Files: where earth and the stars collide. Each post = file capturing thoughts, feelings, art, poetry and all things creative.

uncut and unbothered.

if haunting is for ghosts, what is the longing of the living.

a swift departure from sanity to save the world. Look

in love’s agony, ecstasy detonates.

a hankering to forsake my earthsong omen:

a call to the asphalt from

a tall ledge facing down.

I awaken in a blud bath,

slaughterhouse five.

soaked in moral ambiguity, succulent despair.

a self-loathing that burns holes into the night

swallowing the stars.

To give God a voice

would be to look into my eyes

at the moment of apparition

where I am hope reimagined,

reawakened.

I cut my wings. I do not fly, I dig.

The rebirth of Venus and company.

Lost Virgo Files: where earth and the stars collide. Each post = file capturing thoughts, feelings, art, poetry and all things creative.

I write because I was scared of the power my voice held . I write for the little girl who was in creative writing, and thought she was not good enough to be called a writer. I write for the girl who was so scared to speak that her own voice gave her the ick. I write because I feel misunderstood and the words bring me closer to understanding even if it’s only my own. I write because there is no other way for my voice to be heard. I write because everyone I know is tired of listening to me. But my words don’t get tired. They yearn for the page and ache to be read aloud. I write for my mind the cage to let me be free. I write for freedom and expression and feelings my body can no longer contain at risk of implosion. I write because God knew only the page would bring me understanding and the pen would set me and my people free.

Welcome to Lost Virgo Files: where earth and the stars collide. Each post = file capturing thoughts, feelings, art, poetry and all things creative.

It dawned on me, the name of this card game is much more profound than I initially gathered. A loner fresh into her adulthood sitting at this moody, sultry Wynwood bar leaning into her newfound freedom bound by new responsibilities. Freedom isn’t free and neither is liquor, but with one comes with this spicy, electric feeling of becoming and the other burns as it slides down. Sounds all too familiar to those blooming into a new reality that they only imagined before. See, we’re not really strangers after all. All different stages of life and experiences connecting us together. The stars aligning us to souls to help us along our journey and flesh out our similarities.

This project is my study of creation and corruption. I think it’s important to note. Religion is not the eye or objective of this project. Regardless of where in believes creation originated, this is a commentary on human interaction with nature. I was inspired by Mark Twain’s The Lowest Animal as well as this being an Internet Art class and technology’s influence. This project made me explore building breaking and what is waiting to be restored. Every piece use or created through canvas and on paper TikTok visuals Tumblr Pinterest became a tool to explore that tension. Together the amplified, the message that creation is layered. if I had more time, I would expand the narrative and sharpen the visual language. I really want to push beyond what we see is going wrong and enter the deeper layers of where we’re going in humanity and society. This was just an introduction of me, pushing my editing and technological visual skills. That is core. This project taught me just as much as we corrupt we can create. There is always new pathways to restoration. 

VIRAL INTERVENTIONS

1. Viral Interventions: Read

2. Viral Interventions: Identify

3. Viral Interventions: Compose

4. Viral Interventions: Present (Final)

5. Viral Interventions: Barbara Kruger QCQ

6. Viral Interventions: Propose

7. Viral Interventions: Final Proposal

8. Viral Interventions: Tasks

9. Viral Interventions: Timeline

10. Viral Intervention: Budget

11. Viral Intervention: Process

Sammy’s Hunt, 2025

Medium: Video, Flyers, Graphics, Social Media

“Absurdity is the American Reality”. Our project transformed from something sort of political to a commentary on American society and culture. We created an interactive scavenger hunt to emulate administrative failure, a disconnection from justice, and online rabbit holes/brain rot and doom scrolling we all fall victim too. This highlights the growing divide between systems and real justice. Justice which expands beyond a legal context to a points where a person has been so wronged they felt the desire to be vindicated. A lot of us don’t have the privilege to be far removed and depend on these systems to see us through. But the system doesn’t serve justice; it serves itself.

Sammy’s Scavenger Hunt wasn’t about a reward. It’s modeling how absurdity isn’t the exception, it’s the architecture. Not all hope is lost.

Sammy’s Catastropy, 2025

Medium: Newspaper, Sharpie, Video

“This catastrophic attack of administrative errors has no connection to justice”. We wanted to capture the political nature of our sentence with a quiet and seemingly subtle display of it. Our sentence really stood for itself, so it was more about getting the message out there. The ransom note style lettering on the newspapers added to the government critique. We set our project in the law building right in front of the library. The connections really drove this forward.