Together.
Chaos ain’t just outside — it’s simmering inside. Trying to keep my head above the noise but honestly? Sometimes it feels like drowning in a storm no one else sees. But here’s the thing — storms burn out. They leave behind ash, and from that ash? New fires. New stories. New scars that tell the truth no one else wants to admit. So yeah, maybe this week’s fucked up. Maybe it’s the kind of ugly that won’t pretty up for the ‘Gram. But that’s real. That’s alive. Don’t just survive — scorn. Don’t just exist — ignite. And if anyone asks? Tell ‘em you’re the choir of flies singing loud over the silence.











