I Love Big Fans Of Cartoons, Memes, Bulgarian Jokes And More, That's It!

born in 97 but old school is my flavour
old school is my saviour
lots of man don't understand my behaviour

above bars from 2013.

MANIFESTO OF THE UNSEEN: THE WORD OF A HOMELESS MIND

I stand before no podium, for the streets are my pulpit. I wear no tailored suit, for truth needs no costume. I speak not to be praised, but to be heard — because the silence of thinking men has built the world’s loudest prisons.

Since 2008, I have walked without a roof, but not without reason. I have no family to call, no circle to lean on — yet I am not broken. I am awake. I am what happens when a mind refuses to die, even when the body has been abandoned by a system that calls itself civilized.

I am a United States Naval veteran, once sworn to defend liberty — now defending my very right to exist. The same nation I served now treats homelessness as a felony. The same police who once saluted now stalk. And yet, I endure. I evade not out of fear, but strategy — because I refuse to let a corrupt state stain my record with its hypocrisy.

They call me vagrant, but I call myself free. For I own what no one can confiscate: thought, awareness, defiance. I am an iconoclast — a breaker of false idols, a seeker of questions this world fears to ask. In the age of illusion, I am the last believer in truth.

You can strip a man of comfort, but you cannot strip him of consciousness. You can evict him from a home, but not from the universe of his mind. Out here in cyberspace — my new nation, my invisible parliament — I speak to the few who can still think. To the sapiosexuals, the seekers, the ones who crave intellect over image. I post not for followers, but for fighters — not with fists, but with fire in the brain.

Understand this: poverty is not always failure. Sometimes it is the side effect of refusing to sell your soul. My homelessness is the price of honesty in a marketplace of deception. While others chase status, I chase understanding. While they collect property, I collect principles.

Like Garvey, I believe in the liberation of the mind before the liberation of the body. Like Malcolm, I believe truth must be spoken by any means necessary. Like Fred Hampton, I know that power concedes nothing — it must be taken, organized, awakened. And like Khalid Muhammad, I know that the system fears an educated, disciplined, and fearless man more than it fears an army.

This is not a cry for help — it is a call to consciousness. I do not beg for handouts. I demand accountability. I do not seek pity — I demand perception. The true revolution begins not in the streets, but in the synapses. Until a man can think freely, he will forever walk chained, even in wealth.

Look around you: they have made humanity numb. They have criminalized poverty, monetized ignorance, and crowned deception as democracy. But still, I rise — from sidewalks and shelters, from alleys and Wi-Fi signals — to bear witness that spirit cannot be silenced.

I am not lost; I am becoming. Every step without shelter is a sermon. Every post is a protest. Every breath is an act of defiance against a world that forgot what justice means.

I am the storm the system pretends not to see — a veteran, a philosopher, a ghost in the algorithm. And to those who read these words, know this: you are not powerless. You are simply unawakened.

Rise, question, learn. For every truth you dare to speak makes the empire tremble.

I have no house, but I have a home — in the revolution of thought.

I am broke, but I am not broken.
I am homeless, but I am not hopeless.
I am alone, but I am not silent.

I am the unseen.
And I am still here.

"I'm actually a pretty chill guy. I know that there is supposed to be more to life than this bullshit that's going on. So I'm just doing what I can to improve the lives of those around me,before this dumb bastard pisses off the wrong one and starts the big dumb shit." 


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