The half of SXAH SZAH’s interview that dealt with streaming and the industry produced the quotable lines. The other half produced the person.

Across thirteen questions, the artist was asked about the room she grew up working in, the mirror she has credited with teaching her to love herself, the solitude her work keeps returning to, and the dream she had before she had any concept of what she was asking for. She answered all of them. She has not, on the record, answered most of them before.

The Mirror Told Her the Truth Because Nobody Else Would

The mirror recurs constantly in her material. Asked what the first true thing it told her was, she reframed the question as one about honesty rather than appearance:

“The mirror was the only thing truly seeing me, no friends or family members could tell me the truth about how i look. The mirror teach me two things it never lie to me, and i showed me my weakness and also showed me who i truly wanted to become”

Two things at once — the weakness and the ambition — held in the same reflection. That is not vanity, and it is not self-criticism either. It is closer to an audit. The people around her, in her account, were not withholding cruelty; they were withholding accuracy, which she needed more.

The Bedroom, and the Decision Made In It

Her manifesto has long referred to a bedroom that never changed for years. Asked what staying the same taught her that changing would not have, she described it as the site of a binary choice:

“the bedroom is the only place i had to pick a decision to become someone or become no one. But the saddest part is if i did become someone thr external would be the same. So the question is why not changing why not just try rather than rotting on a bed”

The observation buried in the middle of that is the interesting one. She acknowledges that becoming someone would not have changed the room — the external stays the same either way. That removes the usual motivation. Success was not going to arrive and redecorate her life.

She chose to try anyway, and framed the alternative in the bluntest available terms: rotting on a bed. The reasoning is not aspirational. It is a refusal of the other option.

“Solitude Have Saved Me From Being No One”

Asked whether solitude was something she chose or something she simply got good at, she rejected both readings and made a larger claim:

“I think solitude has been the reason of my existence without it How would i be able to even know me, and bring myself into the world and having an identity i could have say that solitude have saved me from being no one”

Solitude, in her framing, is not a cost of the work or a symptom of being overlooked. It is the precondition for having an identity at all. This is consistent with how she has always presented the walks and the empty rooms in her visual work — as space rather than absence.

It also connects to one of the harder answers in the interview. Asked who in her life has nothing to do with any of this, she said:

“I don’t think I’ve been loved deeply but i supposed I’m being taken care of because the road and decision i took over my life didn’t really fail me but shape me. Mostly the people that dont like me or else dont know i exist are way gone. There’s no distractions in my life i am my own opponent”

“I am my own opponent.” It arrives as a statement of clarity rather than a complaint, and it explains the absence of named enemies anywhere in her work. There is no rival she is trying to beat. The people who did not see her are not opposing her; they are gone.

The Anger Went Into the Work

One question asked where the anger went, given that she never turned it into rebellion. Her answer was short and unromantic:

“The anger has become the thing that start my reason to become who I am instead of using that energy for none constructive stuff i used it for constructive stuff instead”

Converted, not discharged. It is worth noting how rare that is as an artist’s account of their own motivation — the more common version dramatizes the anger and keeps it available for interviews. Hers went into output and did not come back out.

The same discipline appears in how she talks about finishing music:

“Every song that i have released has need to be listen carefully with my own ears. it seems my songs has and had a lot of meaning not just in the lyrics but the tones and chords of those songs. I feel people really do miss out on many things. I could just lost my heart, but worse my sense of humanity among bystanders.”

A song is finished when she has heard it. Not when it performs, not when it is received — when she has listened to it through and judged it.

The Dream, and the One Person She Wants to Notice

Two answers sit underneath everything else. Asked what she can still remember of the dream she had before ego existed, she said:

“My dream was wealth, a type of wealth i never even know, a type of wealth even before i had any idea of it. Not just wealth but to live a good life. a life without regrets but wealth is part of it from what i remember”

A wealth she had no concept of yet — which is to say, not money. The correction she adds herself is the substance of it: a life without regrets.

And asked who she wants to be proud of her, and whether she has told them:

“No i never did, told anybody if there’s only one person that i want to be proud of me , it is the very same thing that created me”

She never told them. She has now, in an interview, which is its own kind of answer.

Earlier in the same session she had been asked what a character deserves that a person does not get, and her reply reads differently once you have seen the one above:

“Character seems or i guess wanna be recognized by the very same thing that shape them. Character are already immortal they’re not just ideas but they’re something worth to be acknowledged”

She is describing a character’s claim on its creator. Given that her entire public project is a demand to be seen, it is not a detour. It is the demand, stated in the third person, aimed at whoever made her.

What She Did Not Answer

The question her work has always ended on — what was my dream? — remains where she left it. She gave an account of what she can remember of it. She did not claim to have recovered it, and she did not resolve it.

The interview is ongoing. One question is still open with her.

The second in a series drawn from SIIIOCULI’s extended interview with SXAH SZAH. Quotes appear exactly as given; her phrasing has not been corrected.