"The One Who Moves the Heavens"

 "The One Who Moves the Heavens"

The streets don’t forgive. They don’t hold you. They don’t wait for you to rise. They swallow, they erase. But I didn’t disappear.

I adapted. I endured.

There were days I felt like a ghost, slipping through time, stomach empty, bones humming with hunger. Nights where the world folded in on itself, and I was nothing but a shadow lost in the abyss. People walked past, eyes seeing through me like I never existed. No food, no shelter, no warmth—just the will to see another day.

But I never stopped.

I fought. Alone.

No hands reached for me. No voices called my name. I faced the storms head-on, eyes unblinking. And when the world pushed me down, I pushed back. Harder.

Now? Now, I stand.

Two years ago, I wouldn’t even have had a laptop to type these words, to carve my name into this digital expanse. But I made it happen. Not because it was given to me—because I willed it into existence.

And this? This is only the beginning.

I will move the heavens until the stars themselves come down, until they question me. Because I refuse to be unseen. I refuse to be anything less than everything I was meant to be.

People didn’t believe in my growth. They looked past me, dismissed me, cast me into the abyss. But I see myself. And I see them too—not as lesser, not as greater, but as whispers from God reminding me: My daily growth is what matters.

So here I am. No phone, no photos, no need for proof. If I appear, it will be in motion. Because I am not here to be captured.

I am here to move.