2nd launch diaries. Day one. Blood is beautiful.

(All photos taken by Niko. In the pictures by appearance: Nikki York, Markko Donto, Kayvon Zand, Dyllan Monroe, Anna Evans, various strangers).

There were many things on my to do list, when I woke up late on Saturday. I had yesterday's words of Albert in my had: "If you want to change the world you gotta start with yourself." He's a phenomenal eccentric in his sixties and we had visited the Met museum. He said, it would be the little things, switch off the AC, recycle, buy green products, walk... check, check, check and check. What do you want me to do now, Albert? Consider it done? Go to bed and die?

I don't have any problems with myself and nobody has a problem with me, in fact, I am very happy with myself and people are very happy with me. My life is beautiful, meaningful, fulfilled, there is an abundance of everything. So this is it then? Oh well, why don't I kill myself then? All is perfect, there is nothing left to do. All I do for years and years is maintain and do a little home improvement here and there. Fuck that! Seriously.

I see greatness and beauty all around me, but I also see violence, stupidity and sickness. Can somebody please put up a wall, so I'm not bothered in my private paradise? Let in a tiny problem here and there, so I can happily and successfully solve it, and feel great about myself? Let me do a good deed here and there, so I can think I'm a great good-doer? Yeah? Is that right?

Maybe engage more in the benefit programs of helping sick, old, young and needing people, nature, animals and that? As if I wouldn't devote so much time on that already. Creating work places? I did, 5 people are making more money than I am, because they work in my company. All of us are paying taxes. And what am I doing with all that good, good stuff? I'm fixing small scale problems of big scale fuck ups. Damn right, that's what I do.

With every good little deed, I am silently supporting and helping those, who do bad, evil and wrong things. Those who fight wars instead of negotiating, those who exploit as much as they can from everything they can find. I am their perfect slave. Whenever something goes wrong, there is some stupid ass little Nikki and her friends who will fix it for them and make this world pretty again. That is rape.

Where are the responsible people for that? Oh, there are none? They created a system, that makes them invisible. So is it the system then? We can do as much good as we want and be as beautiful as we are, it's worth so little, if we don't change the wrong: The rapists who don't stop raping the hell out of others and unconsensually take what doesn't belong to them, exploiters, those who hurt, those who harm, those who abuse.

I am not one of them. I am just one of their best slaves. And so are all my friends. The exploiters, rapists and killers are not my friends. But they are not my enemies either, they are my object of change. Wasn't that, what Obama won the election with? Change?

Hey Mister Obama, you are so far away from me, I have no idea what you are doing. I guess Ashton Kutcher is much better than you, using modern media and informing about what he changes. Mister Obama, how do you feel about it, that people, your people in your democracy listen more to Lady Gaga than to you? Or are those your voices? Is that, what you want us to hear? Are you keeping us happily entertained, while you are rocking the boat and make this planet paradise? I can't vote, but I trust in you, Obama. Blind. And without anybody showing me an acceptable, reasonable future.

Jean-Paul came by for a photo shoot with Alex. I prepared for the second launch first official night out with "Bloody Hands". I was invited by the beautiful people. In my opinion they are the most beautiful people currently living in New York, and they make an extreme effort to be extremely beautiful. It's absolutely fantastic.

There is more than one group, but we all somehow know each other, at least from seeing. If you want to be a part, you need to respect a certain type of uniformism, but not really, new ideas and looks are welcome. You need to contribute and ad somehow. That certainly makes sense. The common denominator is beauty and its individual interpretation of it.

It's a stupid error to believe fashionistas and beautiful people would be shallow, they are not, their average depth is above standard. They are aloof sometimes, because they have to make sure their group beauty does not get diluted by ugly people who want to take advantage instead of contributing and sharing.

The beautiful people share it all: they share their beauty in public, they share getting into clubs for free and having free bottle service, they make a lot of compliments and value others efforts and arts. They are attentive, respectful, sensitive, and aware. They are loud enough to change this world demonstrating, in their daily life and on a larger level: Lady Gaga and fancy designers copy them. I love this group and their energy dearly. They are my friends.

So off to "the gates", a yuppyish club on 8th Avenue. Jean-Paul and I arrived late, because we took too long taking pictures of me dressed up. Kayvon Zand and his entourage, which I happily belong to when he invites, were grabbing cabs to go over to Don Hills for a party of Michael T. and twig the wonderkid, hosted by Kayvon. His girlfriend, our supremely beautiful friend Anna Evans, was going to perform there. I didn't have an opportunity to show my Bloody Hands yet, I was wearing opera gloves going with my Betty Page like outfit.

In front of Don Hills Markko Donto was the first who I showed my hands to. He is a painter and one of the best and most creatively dressed fashionistas, going out with Dylan Monroe. In a gay way of excitement his first reaction was: "I love those, they are beautiful. What a great color. I want that on my cock." Let's do it, great idea. I'd love to do a shoot - film or photo - with Markko and his cock. How cool is that.

It was a fun evening. I handed out my business cards, we took pictures, made plans for future collaborations, we sat in out little VIP back room lounge and Anna's performance was great and better than what I had seen her do before. It's such a cool thing to see everybody become better in what they do.

Some hours later we left to go to Baddies, an afterhour club, not bad either. People's reactions to the hands were positive and exciting throughout the evening. What do you expect, this is America, this is New York. I love New York and New York loves me. Strangers jumped into photos, strangers asked for photos - with the freak obviously, the beautiful freak.

Freaks have a great potential to change this world, always have been, so I'm feeling great as a freak. As long as I stay healthy and don't die of it like many before me, the self-chosen or by circumstances and society condemned to be martyrs. No more martyrdom in this world. This is totally dated.

Art can change the world, massively and drastically. I'm an artist, I can do this. I started with myself a long, long time ago and I'm not finished. New York started to change a little bit already by Bloody Hands. And one thing became more clear to me than ever:

If I want to change the world, I have to change the world. Take that, Albert.