I don't chase attention.

I let it wander toward me.

I have a fondness for silence - the kind that stretches just a little too long. The kind that makes people fill it with confessions they didn't mean to say.

My darkness isn't loud.
It doesn't scream.
It observes.

I prefer my horror subtle. Clean. Intentional.
A slow pulse instead of a jump scare.
A steady gaze instead of raised voices.

Halloween, to me, isn't costumes or candy.
It's the moment someone realizes they misjudged me.

I don't romanticize chaos.
I curate it.

My humor is dry enough to leave fingerprints.
If I laugh at something inappropriate, it's because I calculated the timing.

I don't write monsters.

I write people -and remove the parts that pretend to be good.

If you're looking for warmth, you won't find it here.

But if you're drawn to still water that looks shallow
until you step in -

Stay.