Welcome to my website.

Heyyyy. 👋

So. I made a website.

Yep. A real one. Just like in old days where, before social media took over the internet like a sentient fungus.

I know what you’re thinking. “Ella, what is wrong with you? Everyone uses Twitter and TikTok now! It’s easy, it’s free, everyone is already there, why bother?”

And you’d be right. Sort of.

But lately, it’s started feeling… wrong. Like it’s not my home anymore. It’s a rented apartment where I can’t hang my own art on the walls, the landlord might change the locks without notice, and there are always strangers trying to sell me something from the doorway.

So I decided to get my own little corner. Buy a server, host a site, and actually do something about it instead of just complaining. A little project for the upcoming year!

This is my home. You’re in it now.

So what exactly am I going to do with my little corner of the digital universe?

Well, everything I can’t do elsewhere. Think of this as a dumping ground. The place where all the weird shit that the algorithms probably deemed not profitable and therefore don’t let me share normally:

• Full-length videos of my adventures. Not 60-second clips, not stories that disappear in 24 hours. The whole, glorious thing. A stroll through Saint-Petersburg, an afternoon of pet play with my friends… you’ll see it all here, when I feel like posting it.
• My photos, in all their high-res, uncensored glory. Not a cherry picked best-of from my feed. All the good shots. Even if there is a hundred of them. All in one place and not scattered all around my profile.
• Walls of Text. Oh, I’m sorry. I meant long-form content. My thoughts on doll life, on BDSM, on my travels, on the state of the world, on that time my cat peed all over my shoes rack… You’ll find rambling, unfiltered essays here. No word count limits or community guidelines.
• And for fuck’s sake… NO COMMENTS.

I don’t want comments. I don’t want likes. I don’t want reposts or shares or any of that bullshit that turns every single interaction into performance. This is a place for me. For my voice. I’m going to talk. You can listen, or you can not listen. The choice is yours. And I fully expect this place to have a single proper visitor a month, aside from AI crawlers and bots. If you REALLY want to discuss something, slip into my DM’s, or do your own take and link my post. But here - none of that.

No Rules. No Ads. No Privacy Policy

Okay, let’s talk tech for a minute. Or rather, let’s not talk tech too much. The point isn’t that I’ve become a digital wizard (believe me, I’m a digital apprentice at best). The point is that I own this. The domain name is mine. The server is mine (well, paid for by me, you get it). And the most important part?

Everything is backed up. Every photo. Every video. Every stupid rambling post. If this website goes down tomorrow, it won’t be gone forever. It’ll be a temporary vacation, and I’ll bring it back home in a couple of days.

That being said, it’s my first website. So sometimes, things will break. Maybe an image won’t load. Maybe the text will look like gibberish for five minutes. Don’t panic. Send me a screenshot. I’mma try and fix it, probably.

This space has no tracking, no sign-ups, no ads, and certainly no privacy policy to read through. You don’t exist here, your data is not collected. We’re just two digital ghosts. Me who talks. You who listents. A simplest interaction.

And finally, a rule I am imposing upon myself:

WTFPL 2.0.

That stands for “Do What The Fuck You Want Public License”. Everything you see on this site (unless specified) - every single word, every photo, every video - is licensed under that.

This means you can download, share and use content from this website in any way you can imagine.

Want to put my pictures as your phone’s wallpaper? Go ahead. Want to draw penises on my face with Photoshop and post it to 4chan? Be my guest. Want to train an AI on all my rants until it develops its own personality? Have fun with that. Want to print my essay and wipe your ass with it? It’s legally, ethically, and morally fine with me.

I believe in freedom. Freedom of expression. Freedom to do whatever the hell you want. I put my work out into the world, and I don’t get to control its fate. So please, have at it.

This blog is a monologue. It’s my journal, my scrapbook, my art gallery, all rolled into one. It exists for me to express myself, and if anyone else wants to read it and be inspired or disgusted, then that’s just a bonus. No metrics, no engagement, no reports. No pressure.

I don’t care if 100 people see it or if only one lonely soul finds their way here.

Welcome to my home. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay here. 😉