Welcome to the Demon’s Den, home of all things Apokalyptikandy, Mr. Sinister, and more.

This is where I take the filter rip it off, toss it in the fire. Talk raw. Walk wired. No choir, no savior, no buyer remorse for the shit I inspire. I don’t edit the pressure, I let it apply itself. I let personas collide, multiply, fracture, and rise. This is not branding, it’s bandwidth blown wide. No mask. No muzzle. No measured reply.

I say it because it’s there. I wear it because it’s mine. If it bruises your comfort, that’s fine. It’s just a sign. Take it in stride. This is me and more, without limits, without pardon, without pause. No polish. No politics. No permission. No laws.

Press play. Hear the truth and how it crawls, how it gnaws, how it talks when I’m finally alone and the sound in my mind gets a voice, and the voice is voiced by whichever persona makes the most noise.