My Story

Hardcore Perseverance, Discipline, and Motivation:

Perseverance? It's the fucking grit to keep pushing, even when every goddamn thing is trying to bury you. It's about standing tall, no matter how much shit people throw at you. I believe in myself, I never needed their fucking hand-holding. I found ways to turn my torment into ecstasy, even when the world was hell-bent on stamping me out. Battling severe addiction and mental health issues, flirting with death, enduring years in the fucking slammer, finding solace in beaches and skate parks - I've weathered it all. When you've been through the wringer your whole life, you learn to find peace in the pandemonium, to understand that there's a twisted kind of joy in suffering. I'm not in the game unless my life is on the fucking line!

Discipline:

Discipline has been the fucking bedrock of my journey. It's not just about routine; it's about commitment, dedication, and the relentless pursuit of fucking perfection. It's about sharpening your skills, whether that's in tattooing, BMX riding, or running your own goddamn empire. Discipline is the bridge between dreams and reality. In the Hardcore realm, it's the fucking foundation upon which dreams are built.

Motivation:

What lights my fire? It's the rush of the ride, the satisfaction of birthing a masterpiece, the joy of lighting a spark in others. It's about finding that Hardcore spirit within, even when you're lost in the fucking wilderness. Motivation is the fuel for the Hardcore soul. It's the fire that burns within, pushing us to defy limits, shatter barriers, and chase the fucking impossible.

I realized the world was fucked up when I was just a kid. Full of spirit and, from what I can recall, genuine happiness. But that joy? It was soon ripped away by my mother, school, and doctors. They insisted something was 'wrong' with me because I couldn't fit their mold, couldn't sit still in their 'ideal' system. Fast forward two decades, and guess who was right all along? But hey, I figured the best way to show the world how badass I truly am was to prove it. And so, here we are.

"The Righteous Demon's Journey"

Right now, I see myself as a righteous demon, capable of doing all the wrong things for all the right reasons. My drive? It's fueled by the satisfaction I find in my accomplishments. In the BMX flatland scene, I'm not just another rider; I'm a fucking supernova, bursting with untapped potential.

Art? It's not just a hobby; it's the fucking essence of my soul. I've mastered a plethora of mediums, from the delicate strokes of color pencils and graphite to the bold expressions of painting, airbrushing, and graffiti. But if there's one art form that truly resonates with me, it's tattooing. Lately, the digital realm and AI have piqued my interest, expanding my artistic horizons even further.

Beyond art and BMX, I'm a clothing designer. To me, clothing isn't just fabric; it's a canvas, a statement, a fucking declaration of one's identity. And I'm not stopping there. I'm diving into the world of video content, eager to share my journey, insights, and hardcore spirit with the world.

At my core, I'm deeply in tune with my emotions. I've learned to harness them, to channel them into my passions. And now, I'm on a mission: to empower others with this knowledge. I want to guide souls towards a life filled with purpose, happiness, and unapologetic authenticity.

From Chains to Fucking Freedom

Every time someone said, "You're so lucky, your talent's a gift from God," I wanted to punch them in the face. A gift? You think this shit started as a gift? I began drawing on my damn walls when my mother practically locked me in my room. To her, I was a fucking inconvenience, and she made damn sure I felt it. Drawing wasn't a hobby; it was my escape from the hell she put me through. All because I was "HYPER", because I couldn't sit still like a good little puppet.

But here's the kicker: that so-called "curse" became my fucking salvation. It wasn't about the art. It was about survival. It was about taking the torture, the pain, the bullshit, and turning it into something. It was about using that fire, that rage, to create.

So, when people say my talent's a gift, I laugh. It's not a gift from above; it's a weapon I forged in the fires of adversity. It's proof that I can take whatever shit life throws at me and turn it into gold. It's not about the art; it's about the fight, the passion, the fucking defiance.

Save your pity for the weak

Save your pity for the weak. I'm this way because you made me this way. My ability not to give a fuck about what society thinks? That's my coping mechanism, my way of expressing myself.

Nobody gave a fuck when they were judging me, thinking they were qualified to make life-altering decisions that would ultimately affect me for the rest of my life. Well, I don't give a fuck about your feelings either.

Sure, there were ups and downs. I was a little badass motherfucker with a chip on his shoulder, but I figured it out.

I found out I could feel better through art and physical performance. I knew I would be unstoppable. Art was my way of saying 'Fuck You' in the most gentle way. No matter how fucked up the content, you can't deny how good the work is.

BMX was my escape, something I enjoyed as a kid. Art wasn't enough for me, I had to be doing something all the time. I move around because I'm fighting off bad feelings, and the only way to make it go away is to do something fucking awesome.

I realized that my suffering was a hell that I built to live in. What I was experiencing was self-inflicted torture, a perspective and mentality of a demon that wanted revenge on the ones that made me feel this way.

So, what you're witnessing now? It's the mind of a monster, a righteous demon who took the world's bullshit and turned it into something fucking awesome.