GORGEOUS.
COMPLEX.
MESS.
I don’t exist to be palatable.
I was not built for simplicity, nor raised for decoration.
What I carry is heavy. What I make is sharp.
What I feel burns clean through the façade.
This brand is not for the faint, the fake, or the formulaic.
It’s for those who know that beauty can cut,
that complexity is a sign of life,
and that the mess—the real, blood-and-bone mess—is sacred.
I build like a machine. I cut like a blade.
I bleed like a poem.
I take nothing at face value and everything to heart.
This is not a persona.
It’s a frequency.
A sovereign, strategic, high-voltage presence.
I don’t want followers. I want allies.
If you’re here to posture, scroll past.
If you’re here to rise—we might just burn together.
GORGEOUS.
COMPLEX.
MESS.
For those born to break the blueprint.
KNOW WHAT THIS SMELLS LIKE.
THE UNRAVELING™
First, your mind goes FRAYED™.
Then, your soul goes NUMB™.
FEEL THE MOOD.
This isn’t just a playlist. It’s a psychological profile.
GCM lives in the in-between—between ache and ambition, stillness and static.
Start here: BANKS’ This Is What It Feels Like and Travis Scott’s sdp interlude.
One cuts. One drips. Both built the atmosphere we move in.
FEEL LESS ALONE.
READ CONFESSIONS.
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![Close-up of calm blue water with gentle ripples and reflections.]()
A Muse I Never Had To Survive
I didn’t just feel safe with him.
I felt activated.He wasn’t a pedestal I climbed to feel worthy.
He was a blueprint I studied to become sharper. -
![Abstract swirling pattern of black, red, and orange paint resembling fluid art or marble textures.]()
I Was His Reckoning
Yes.
It is unfair.
And there’s no divine ledger balancing it out in real time.I walked through fire.
Not for glory.
Not for recognition.
But because I saw something real in a man who hadn’t yet earned my vision of him. -
![A white human skull with a black crown placed on top, displayed on a white pedestal against a plain gray background.]()
GORGEOUS. COMPLEX. MESS.
He starved the very woman who would’ve made him sovereign—not through servitude, but through shared sovereignty.
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![An abandoned, dilapidated building with damaged floors, peeling walls, and graffiti. A red armchair is in the foreground, with large windows and gothic-style arches on the ceiling.]()
The Crumbling Throne
A kingdom of delusion, built on a sinking floor.
You crowned yourself in charm that doesn’t land anymore.
Held up by brothers who resent you, and women who stopped looking twice.
Meanwhile—
you still think you’re safer in that crumbling throne
than standing bare and rebuilding from nothing.
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![A person's face with eyes covered by a light-colored blindfold, blurred, with a dark background.]()
To the Man Who Was Made the Problem
I saw what they did to you.
They didn’t just let you spiral.
They watched you rot.
Silently. Strategically.
Because if they intervened, they’d have to admit they saw it happening.
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![Silhouettes of two hikers standing on a grassy hill against a cloudy sky.]()
He Could Have Stood Beside Me
I never wanted to save him.
I wanted him to rise.
To walk through his wreckage, past the ghosts and guilt and grief,
and choose—of his own free will—to stand beside me.
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![An hourglass with black frame and clear glass, filled with black sand, placed on a windowsill.]()
I Would’ve Stayed If You Rose
If you had swallowed your pride,
owned the hurt,
and come back to me with humility,
then the truth about your family wouldn’t have just shattered you.
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![Close-up of icicles hanging with a dark background.]()
He Could’ve Followed. He Froze Instead.
He’s pathetic.
Not in a cruel, mocking way—
but in the ancient, tragic sense of the word: pathos.
I see him now for what he really is.
A man with potential, undone by his own refusal.
KNOW WHO MADE THIS.
FOUNDER, Creative & Brand Director
The Female Untouchable
She doesn’t provoke to be seen.
She provokes because the truth demands it.
Not here to be adored.
Not here to be decoded.
She builds, she burns, she disappears — and still leaves the map altered.
A strategist.
A storm system.
An emotional architect with no interest in being anyone’s blueprint.
You don’t follow her to feel safe.
You follow her because somewhere deep in your system, you know she’s the one who sees through it all.