Music is everything to me. It’s the one thing that truly moves me, and I love sharing the songs that resonate with me, hoping they’ll connect with others too.

There was someone—Morningstar. Her presence stayed with me in every note, in every melody, because faith has always been something I hold close. I was raised to wait, never to make the first move, so I shared music instead, hoping it would reach her.

But lately, I’ve realized that in doing so, I might be putting the people I care about in danger. And I can’t let that happen. I would die for my friends, but I don’t want them to have to suffer for me.

There’s a dream I’ve held onto—working with those who inspire me, who have shaped the way I see music and art. But fear lingers. I started this journey from the ground up, capturing moments with artists on the streets, and now I’m terrified that this path could lead to something I’m not ready for.

And then—something clicked.

Photography. Healing. A way forward.

What if we could use photography to heal the world? To listen, to capture the stories that matter most, and to tie them back to music? I want to hear the voices that need to be heard, to amplify the struggles and triumphs that shape our world.

I don’t have the resources yet—the money, the legal know-how—but I have the vision. A vision that could bring people together, remind them of love, of unity. The idea is simple: to wander, to listen, to document pain in a way that transforms it into something safe, something hopeful. Because everyone deserves to be heard, no matter where they come from.

I love you all so much, and it would be an honor to listen.

I’m sorry for oversharing. For a moment, I truly thought I was at the end. But I wasn’t. I just didn’t know who to turn to. And somehow, I felt trust here. Felt kindness. And I’m grateful for that—grateful for the love.

Thank you.