Many know me by a screen name—an alias, a tag—a name nonetheless. The most common is or is a form of 'void'.

I've been a void a long time now—what started as a cool sounding word has evolved to describe a way I interpret myself.

void is short for biovoid, which has a symmetry that is very aesthetically pleasing, but also captures a "mere entity" abstraction I enjoy; the "empty flesh" of it being almost tautologically voidpunk. Before it was biovoid, it was viovoid, more simply calling upon "violet" (my favorite color of nonzero saturation). I sure enjoy my 'V's (yes, that V for Vendetta monologue was awesome; no, I won't be attempting anything of the sort here). I use these all in various capacities to identify myself in different circles, predominantly online.

void and its forms, and even null, as I sometimes also claim, reconcile an extreme minimalist culmination of identity with insatiable technofetishism. Empty and neutral, unassuming and unopinionated—a natural fit, on sex and gender, and I could probably argue stoic influence in there. A stylistic rendering, as vøıd, offers a few interpretations. The ø has affiliation with neutrois, and has some cool mathematical meanings. The dotless I is mostly aesthetic, but characterizes minimalistic influence.

void captures a negative space (but forget any connotation there a moment). I continue to identify with the word and what it means to me. Through constant self-discovery, I have realized that while critical to my being, my interpretation of self, it is not all of me. There is a balance I had been missing, another component to complete the equation. These empty, mechanical self-identifications once sought to run from human-ness, maybe even personhood. I abstract myself to a biological machine, and take comfort in it. But I am still human. I feel. I am alive.

You may call me Vivian.

Or any affectionate abbreviation which seems fit: Vivi, Viv, Vi, V. From the Latin 'vivus' (literally 'alive'), it is a simple yet beautiful capture of that mortal essence. And it has two of that letter I have an affinity for; bonus. Mirroring my growth, the name was originally masculine, though perhaps sees feminine leanings nowadays. I am no less void than I was—indeed Vivian contrasts and balances void; they form my yang and my yin, and assimilating both into my identity gives me a euphoric and complete sense of self.