I WAS ON
THEIR LIST.
NOW THEY'RE
ON MINE.

In the founder's words

I WAS ON THEIR LIST. NOW THEY ARE ON MINE.

There comes a point when you realize being loyal doesn't guarantee loyalty in return.

For a long time, being on someone's list meant I was useful. My name meant something. The phone could ring and there was a reason they wanted me on the other end.

Then one day, being on the list meant something very different.

That's the thing about lists.

Someone else gets to decide why your name is there.

The List was born from the moment I stopped letting that define me.

The fractured skull represents what remains after you've been marked, judged and counted out. The tally marks aren't a body count. They're a record.

I remember.

The two 4x4s represent something much simpler: movement. When the road disappears, you don't sit there waiting for somebody to build you another one.

You find a way through.

And that's what the words mean:

I WAS ON THEIR LIST.
NOW THEY ARE ON MINE.

Not revenge.

Remembrance.

I don't need them to remember my name anymore.

I remember theirs.

In the founder's words

YOU DID NOT FINISH ME. I AM STILL STANDING. THEY FAILED.

There were times when disappearing would have been easier.

There were people and circumstances that took pieces of me I will never get back. Eventually you learn that surviving something doesn't mean walking away unchanged.

Sometimes survival just means you're still here.

That's what Still Standing is about.

In the artwork, I'm not celebrating.

I'm not raising my fists.

I'm not looking for applause.

I'm simply still here.

Behind me is the life I've survived. And hidden in the reflection is the Reaper.

You'll see him throughout BLACKLISTED.

For me, the Reaper isn't death coming to collect.

He's the witness.

He's seen the places I've been. He knows the things I've done. He knows how close the line has been.

And somehow, every time he looks back…

I'm still standing.

That's why the design doesn't say I won.

It says something much more important:

YOU DID NOT FINISH ME.

I AM STILL STANDING.

THEY FAILED.

In the founder's words

I SOLD MY SOUL FOR THEM. BUT THE DEBT IS STILL DUE.

Duty can make terrible things sound simple.

You have a responsibility.

You make a decision.

You do what needs to be done.

Then everybody goes home.

Except part of you doesn't.

The Debt is about the part that stays behind.

I kneel at the water because eventually I have to face myself without the noise, the explanations or the people who once told me what had to be done.

But when I look into the water, my reflection isn't there.

The Reaper is.

Because sometimes you can justify the decision and still live with its consequences.

Sometimes you can believe you did what had to be done and still wonder what it cost you.

That's the debt.

Not punishment handed down by somebody else.

The debt you carry inside yourself.

I thought I'd already paid for some things.

Turns out the bill keeps coming.

I SOLD MY SOUL FOR THEM.

BUT THE DEBT IS STILL DUE.

In the founder's words

MARKED. NOT BROKEN.

Eventually the scars stop being evidence of what happened to you.

They become part of who you are.

That's Marked.

There's no man in this design. No vehicle. No landscape. No story unfolding behind it.

Just the mark.

The BLACKLISTED skull is fractured, scarred and incomplete. Five tally marks are cut into its forehead.

It isn't supposed to look untouched.

Neither am I.

There are things that change you permanently. Pretending otherwise doesn't make you stronger.

Accepting it does.

And if you look carefully into the darkness of the skull, the Reaper is still there.

Of course he is.

Some companions don't leave.

But there's a difference between being damaged and being destroyed.

I learned that difference the hard way.

MARKED.

NOT BROKEN.

In the founder's words

MY PAST STILL FOLLOWS. I JUST STOPPED RUNNING FROM IT.

For years I thought moving forward meant leaving things behind.

I was wrong.

Some things come with you.

There are memories I can't erase. Decisions I can't unmake. Things I've done that can't be undone simply because enough years have passed.

Those are the chains.

In the artwork, they're wrapped around my torso.

That was deliberate.

Nobody is holding the other end.

Nobody put me in shackles.

The chains are mine. The weight is mine.

Every step forward means dragging the weight of everything behind me.

And behind me walks the Reaper.

He isn't pulling the chains. He isn't trying to stop me.

He's watching.

I don't have to outrun my past anymore. I have to decide where I go next.

Because the Reaper knows something I finally learned:

I don't have to destroy my past to move beyond it.

I don't have to pretend it didn't happen.

And I don't have to spend the rest of my life running from it.

I acknowledge the weight.

I carry what belongs to me.

And then I take another step.

MY PAST STILL FOLLOWS.

I JUST STOPPED RUNNING FROM IT.