Curate, connect, and discover
I don’t crave filtered smiles or captions dipped in sugar lies. I want the crack in your voice when you speak what no one else hears. Give me the girl whose eyeliner smudges at midnight because she was too busy chasing stars to care about the mirror. Show me the woman who laughs like thunder, cries like poetry, loves like fire and walks away from games without flinching. I don’t need perfection. I need soul. Skin that shivers at truth, eyes that undress egos, hands that build, not break. Come as you are — messy, raw, unfiltered, all your bruises kissed by moonlight. That’s where I’ll meet you. Not in the scroll, but in the soul.