The short version is on social. This is where things get explained properly.
Song deep-dives, behind-the-scenes on the musical and the horror archive, notes on craft and identity, and the practical truth about building a life in Costa Rica.
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Some stories begin here. Others continue on Substack.​
The story behind Cracked Bottles, Broken Hearts, a company number from Waymon Hudson's musical Speakeasy, stripped to one voice and a piano for Sessions from the Velvet Boot.
This is a love song. I want to say that plainly, because I've noticed people sometimes hedge when a song could be read more than one way, and I don't want to hedge.
It's just that love means more than one thing, and this song knows that.
If you hear it as romantic, you're not misreading it. Play it at your wedding. Play it on your anniversary to the person who's been beside you through the years that weren't the good ones. That reading is completely true.
But if the person
Silent Horrors is an archive of unsettling short horror stories, strange encounters, and impossible memories. Somewhere between analog horror, psychological horror, weird fiction, and modern folklore, each file stands alone—but readers have started noticing patterns. Doors left open. Rooms that feel occupied. Mirrors behaving strangely. The stories don’t seem connected. Until they do.
I’m a communications executive.
And I’m Deaf.
And no, this isn’t a paradox.
Communication is not about sound.
It’s about presence. Intention. Story. Emotional accuracy.
It’s about making people feel heard — not just heard by you.
It’s just a different way of listening.
