write a piece that’s meant to have whoever reads it open their mind, I’m connecting it to the political party even though I really don’t want to go in politics. Title it something around what the people will say?!

with all the work, with all the knowledge, with all the proof delivered, what does people’s silence say about them, their discernment more than anything, their professionalism, their emotional regulation, their ability to act under pressure, their consideration, their morals and ethics…?

I really don’t want to step down into politics, as I don’t see it as a step up given the environment, but I will if I must. If no one else does take life seriously to the extent of grounding it in consciousness. And the fact they all had to invest in one person, something they all do for so many people already, none that offers this type of expansion, what does it say about their judgement?! They only need to take a shot, nothing else, watch their investment mature as I’ve already shown maturation. They don’t have to do anything outside of the norm, but everything outside of their egos.

I’ll be honest I can’t financially afford to continue this, it is eating at my time and energy, I have a barista interview today but lord knows how it’ll go. after that I will play the game, meaning as my representation of the company counts i will have to drop this off to not hinder it, cause I can’t have anything ruin this opportunity no matter what. It’s literally riskier to invest in Krypto than to invest in me, but hey the ego has a the price matching to depth of it, bigger the ego, bigger the denial.

It only took one person to do the filing, it just happened to be me, it took only one person to show so many how unprepared they were for the next season of life and it happened to be me, it would’ve taken only one person to support financially or publically to allow this work to mature further, just one person to invest in me and the work I do, cause let’s be honest there’s no one that does it like me, it’s not that hard to admit, yet here I am, writing the eulogy to my work because it could ruin the reputation of my possible job, if they say yes that is.

I’d rather be a barista than do politics, so this will only stay as an idea unless I get called into it, other than that out of choice?! I know I could, but I won’t. It’s way too toxic for me to even be in those rooms without support. It’s just not going to happen. Again others don’t seem to care, why should I to that extent, when I’ve cared enough?!

It’s like one day one of my children might come and ask for help for something I taught them to avoid and after repeated times there’s going to be that one day where I tell them no, it’s enough. Hey even my dad has, so can I blame him? He’s not my piggy bank, though he’s not allowing any other depth of relationship other than proximity, it’s still a cost beyond his means.

So I give an ultimatum to the work if it doesn’t attract no requests, no investments, no interest in continuation, cause we can’t let the only boat left sail off. Work. Bleaah..

I was trying to build a life where we wouldn’t even feel like working, a life where we contribute with passion in everything we do, and that too wasn’t enough. I mean at this point I’m left to think people don’t actually want better, they want manageable and manageable isn’t healthy, nor what we deserve, but if it is what’s been asked, then maybe and just maybe it’s what I should learn to live with.

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“So… What Will People Say?”

With all the work on the table,
with all the knowledge made public,
with all the evidence delivered cleanly, repeatedly, and in good faith —

what does people’s silence actually say?

Not about me.
About them.

Silence is not neutral.
It never has been.

Silence speaks volumes about discernment — or the lack of it.
About professionalism under pressure.
About emotional regulation when comfort is threatened.
About moral stamina when responsibility stops being abstract.
About ethics when no one is forcing a response. No one had a gun pointed at them, just words.

And most of all, silence reveals judgement.

Because doing nothing is still a choice.

I didn’t set out to step into politics.
I actively don’t want to.

Politics, as it exists, is not an upgrade — it’s a compression chamber.
An environment where truth is diluted, urgency is postponed, and humanity is managed instead of served.

But if no one else is willing to take life seriously enough to ground it in consciousness — really ground it, not slogan it — then what does refusal to act say about everyone watching?

What does it say when people invest, loudly and repeatedly, in figures who offer far less clarity, far less courage, and far less future — but hesitate when asked to back something that actually expands the frame?

They didn’t need to gamble.
They didn’t need to leap.
They didn’t need to abandon the norm.

They only needed to take a shot.

One person.
One investment.
One public signal.

And then — do nothing else but watch it mature.

I’ve already shown maturation.
That part isn’t theoretical.

So what does hesitation say about judgement, when the risk of not acting is greater than the risk of acting?

I’ll be honest: I can’t financially afford to keep doing this indefinitely.
It costs time.
It costs energy.
It costs opportunity.

I have a barista interview today. And I’ll take it seriously — because I have to.
If they say yes, I’ll have to step back from this work publicly, not because it lacks value, but because the world punishes those who don’t compartmentalise truth into “appropriate” boxes.

It’s safer to invest in crypto than to invest in me. (This was meant to be the opposite, but we’ll leave it there)
And that alone should say something.

Ego always prices itself in proportion to its depth of denial.
The bigger the ego, the higher the resistance to backing what might outgrow it.

It only took one person to file.
It only took one person to expose how unprepared many were for the next season of life.
It would have only taken one person to support this work — financially or publicly — to let it continue maturing.

Just one.

And yes, I know it’s uncomfortable to admit: there isn’t anyone doing this work the way I am. That’s not arrogance — it’s observable. But acknowledgement requires discernment, and discernment requires responsibility.

So here I am, writing what feels like a eulogy to work that I could outgrow — not because it failed, but because it might threaten my ability to survive in the system as it stands.

I’d rather be a barista than enter politics. Truly.
Politics isn’t a calling for me — it’s a contingency.

And unless I’m actively called into it, I won’t choose it. Not out of ego, but out of care. It’s too toxic to step into those rooms alone, and I won’t sacrifice my wellbeing for institutions that refuse to meet humanity halfway.

At some point, even care has limits.

Like a parent who has taught, warned, guided — and eventually has to say no.
Not out of cruelty.
Out of boundary.

I tried to build a life where “work” wouldn’t feel like extraction — where contribution flowed from passion, not survival.

That wasn’t enough either.

So maybe the hardest truth to sit with is this:
maybe people don’t actually want better.
Maybe they want manageable.

And manageable isn’t healthy.
It isn’t expansive.
And it isn’t what we deserve.

But if that’s what’s being chosen — consciously or not — then maybe my work now is to learn how to live with that reality… without betraying myself.

So again, I ask — not rhetorically, but sincerely:

With everything laid out,
with nothing hidden,
with the future knocking plainly at the door —

what will people say their silence meant?