His journey to silence, scars, and survival. 10 chapters moving from broken nights to imperfect redemption, stitched together in grit, love, and raw confession.

Static To Salvation

The story begins in silence. This track captures the collapse of connection, the echo of absence, and the weight of scars that never found closure. Reversed pianos, heartbeat drums, and raw vocals make it feel like breathing inside a cage. It’s the first step into brokenness—the moment where the world goes quiet, and the wounds start speaking.

My Exit Wounds Still Bleed

Concrete doesn’t bend—it breaks. This track turns the city itself into a metaphor for heartbreak, with booming drums, gunshot snares, and echo-laden flows that hit like demolition charges. It’s loud, unflinching, and cinematic—every verse shakes with steel, rubble, and rebar.

Concrete Hearts Break Loud

The descent continues—faith blurred by guilt, truth tangled in confession. Surreal and dreamlike, this song mixes religious imagery with the intimacy of late-night breakdowns. The world outside blurs, and the only clarity is in the spill, the prayer, and the silence.

Left in a pool of wine

Flawed but devoted—this track admits sins born from survival. Detuned pianos, distorted guitars, and pounding 808s give weight to a confessional that says holiness isn’t clean. It’s redemption through grit, loyalty in the mud, a halo dented but never removed.

Dirty Halo

Exhaustion sets in. The engine won’t turn, the light is gone, but somehow motion continues. This track is a weary anthem of survival, where grit replaces fuel and sparks appear in the dark when they shouldn’t. Burnout becomes proof of persistence.

Dead Batteries Still Spark

The loneliness of modern noise—dopamine loops and endless feeds. Fast, syncopated flows cut against heavy beats as the track confronts the gap between online applause and real-world warmth. It’s a turning point, calling out the machine while longing for hands that actually hold.

Algorithm Don’t Love

Restless and conflicted, this chapter blurs love, longing, and exhaustion. Rap verses spill honesty, while the chorus carries both devotion and doubt. It’s a ride through two cities and two hearts, a song that questions whether the road leads to love or just further away.

Take You Out

The breakthrough. After the storm and the silence comes defiance. This is the pivot point—the song that turns resilience into anthem. Static synths, gritty guitars, and cinematic choirs collide into a declaration: every setback is fuel, every closed door a new map.

Break the Limit

Devotion in its quietest, most stubborn form. This track embodies love that doesn’t stop when unrecognized—steady, patient, true. Raspy vocals, muted guitars, and ticking clocks carry a confession: even when the world moves on, love keeps showing up.

Love Don’t Clock Out

The final chapter—imperfect redemption. Strings, boom-bap drums, and ambient grit back a confession that salvation isn’t clean, but found in work, meals, and quiet grace. It’s not perfection—it’s presence. Not heaven above, but peace built here.

Salvation Is a Sunday Dress

I’m not a musician—I’m a creator. Whether working with my hands, my mind, or my words, I approach everything with care, precision, and passion. Whether building from scratch or improving upon something abandoned, I strive to make it stand on its own.

As the owner of a handyman business, I don’t cut corners. I take that same approach in my writing and lyrics. Words, like tools, have meaning and weight. When chosen carefully, they come together to create something impactful and lasting.

Living with ADHD, PTSD, and RSD brings its challenges, but these traits fuel my creativity. ADHD, in particular, sharpens my ability to jump into new situations with fresh ideas, often finding solutions where others can’t. I don’t follow traditional paths—I carve my own.

Whether repairing something broken or building something new, I always aim to leave things better than I found them. Each song, each piece of writing, follows the same principle: a way of making sense of life’s chaos. Ultimately, I ensure that what I create is whole—completed with the same determination and care that I bring to everything I do. When I finish, no one else needs to step in.

Static To Salvation

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