Fordham University

Bachelors in Natural Science, Biology, General

I entered college on a pre-med track with the intent to become a surgeon. My academic standing was a 3.6.

I don’t learn through prolonged, structured coursework. I absorb, integrate, and apply knowledge at an accelerated rate, making the standard four-year system a waste of time. If I wanted to master physics, engineering, or medicine, I’d be better off sitting with a top professor for six months and applying it in real time than spending years in a classroom.

The same inefficiencies I saw in corporate work applied to the academic system. I don’t function within rigid structures that force stagnation—I execute. Once I saw that university was the wrong fit, I left.

For some, college and a job are the right choice. For me, they were completely misaligned with how I operate, so I stopped trying to force them.

I am

• The organizer of chaos.

• The unmasker of liars.

• The judge of integrity.

• The one who moves through without explanation but leaves everything reshaped.

This is why density comes when I speak—it’s not only my words.

It’s the collision of my clarity with your false reality.

MY LATEST EMAIL

Living in homeless shelter. Assigned room 513B. Been here less than four days. Carpet reeks of old urine, etc.

Yesterday told the same lady who gave me that stingy chicken the day before—if something isn’t done, the state, OSHA (even if I don’t work here), and any other entity necessary will be informed.

She gave some bureaucratic nonsense. I asked who does the cleaning. Was directed. Went there. Told the guy to step out of the room he was in. Almost tripped trying to come out with his injured leg.

Let him know—if it’s not cleaned, someone’s getting fired.

Went upstairs. Some woman followed asking nonsense. One look:

“Do you work here?”

“No.”

“Good day.”

Sent the following email to a journalist, a homeless shelter coalition, and three other state-level institutes.

EMAIL 👇

Homeless Shelter Chaos 112-26 Roosevelt Ave

I am writing to inform you of an incident requiring media coverage. My name is Kadija, and I am currently residing in the homeless shelter at 112-26 Roosevelt Ave.

The stench of the room I’ve been placed in (#513 fifth floor) is not only unbreathable—it reeks of urine and the like, with sticky walls and no windows for ventilation whatsoever. Staff have been notified from day one, with nothing but a shrug of the shoulder in response. There is a side of the building referred to as “the hotel” side; they’ve also been notified, with nothing to show for it.

The game here is that each person plays “I don’t know,” “We’re understaffed,” or whatever excuse they can come up with to avoid doing their job. They bank on the ignorance of the residents as most here are not as educated. I am an anomaly, so it is someone like me whom they never expect.

They have the audacity to walk in at 10 PM when they’re supposed to be here at 9. They pretend to securely check everyone entering the building, but all they do is glance. They run out of food and water when residents need it, then offer the half-ass excuse: “We have supplies, but everything’s behind closed doors in boxes.” They give you deadlines to have your paperwork done, while they run around sporadically claiming it’s because they’ve recently converted into a women’s shelter.

They’re all acting out roles, pretending to follow “a book,” with no nuance or strategy behind anything they’re doing. Most of the staff here are to be replaced.

I don’t waste words. If you want to know anything about me go to 21stcenturymemoir.com.

UPDATE: Came back, that afternoon, from the job I am temporarily working as a home health attendant (better sitting quietly with a 95 year old for 10 hours straight than speaking nonsense to trash). Carpet cleaned, with white-smelling powder sprinkled all over it to catch any remaining odor.

I fear only one thing: Compromise.

This is where the whole world splits them and me (and the tiny few like me—perhaps countable with only two hands).

People fear loss. I fear not being.

They say “what if I don’t get what I want?”

I say “what if I ever step outside of what I am?”

The first is emotional panic.

The second is sacred terror.

Not out of guilt, but out of alignment so pure, distortion itself is painful.

I don’t know what boredom is.

I’ve never been bored—because boredom is a symptom of emptiness.

I am never empty.

I am so full of alignment that even silence is satisfying.

I might have used the word 'bored' in the past from not having a way to explain what I meant, but now, I simply describe it in full and move on.

I don’t need stimulation.

I don’t even need “fulfillment” the way most people define it.

I need only movement in truth.

If it’s aligned, I move.

If it’s not, I don’t.

That’s it.

I step into churches, listen to the pastor, and call out bullshit if needed.

That’s exactly how it should be.

But insecure people treat religion as territorial ownership rather than a pursuit of truth.

The shock people have when I step into a church as as someone that once falsely attached the word “religion (like Islam)” to my orbit? (Never was. I'm only a pure believer in God alone and anything under It.)

• It’s not about faith.

• It’s about their fear of being exposed to something outside their boxed-in mindset.

• It’s about control, not clarity.

And that’s why I refuse to reduce myself to a label that comes with pre-packaged limitations.

Years of subjective trash that blocked my clarity—out.

Covering my hair when it’s not even aligned with me? Forget it. (Unless it’s to avoid the disgusting NYC air that also burns my delicate eyes.)

Wearing long Arab cloaks when I’m not in the desert? I'm not even Arab. Never again.

Praying when it’s not out of quality but just “cardio” disguised as obligation? I’m not a nutcase.

Then you have the people who act like they care more about my relationship with God than I do.

Bruh… if I’m ready to face God Itself and not flinch—because I was genuine in every step, even with the threat of fire—

Do you seriously believe you care more about me than I do?

Stop convincing yourself of nonsense.

Truth doesn’t belong to one place.

God is not confined to a title.

You walk into any space, and truth either stands or collapses.

That’s why I can be in a mosque, in a church, in a synagogue, in a temple, in the middle of nowhere—

and still be more aligned than the fools who are “religious” by label but lost in practice.

I don’t perform faith.

I live it.

The irony?

The same people commit sins and pretend they did nothing—

while I sit in a corner shaking, hoping I won’t get caught in the destruction they’ve set in motion.

Because it’s not about what they did.

It’s about the magnitude of what they are going against while they do it.

But the blind only see darkness.

MY LATEST EMAIL (HOW I ROLL)

I recently realized I’d been subconsciously whipped for a guy in high school who had mutual feelings for me back then. Once I consciously recognized it, I found him on LinkedIn again, went to his workplace, wasn’t able to go up, inquired at the front desk over the phone, they gave me his email—and I sent the following (after not having spoken in 13 years):

EMAIL

Greg (Gregory Giuliani),

I’m someone who doesn’t lie to myself, and when something needs to be done, I do it.

So here it is: I’ve always loved you, to date. It took me a while to consciously register it, but once I did, I knew I had to tell you.

I came in person today to do that, but understandably couldn’t go up without an appointment. I’m downstairs in the coffee shop in your building working for a bit—might head to Whole Foods later and wrap the day there before going home.

I also sent you a message on LinkedIn about a month or so ago because I sincerely missed you --and followed with another saying never mind, that I made a mistake. So I know you're already aware.

Leaving my current number below if you’d like to reach out, and my website in case you want to see what I’ve been up to.

All the best,

Kadija (or the name he knew me by)

[4..-...-....]

[21stcenturymemoir.com]

Why People Feel Like They’ve Known Me Forever

Some people you meet, and they feel like a passing interaction.

Others? You swear they’ve been in your life for years—even if it’s only been days. A Few? You have no idea what's going on.

I am the last one.

Here’s why-

Presence is not time. Most people drift through life half-present. When I enter a space, I see everything, engage with everything, and exist fully in that moment.

You feel it.

I speak to the core of you. I don’t respond to the mask you wear for the world. I speak to who you actually are. No one has ever done that to you before.

I do not perform. People spend years building an image, maintaining illusions, and curating how they’re perceived. I do none of that. What you see is exactly what is. That level of realness is so rare, it feels ancient.

I move through life like I’ve already lived it. Because I have. Every misstep, every illusion, every lie that could be believed—I have already seen through. So when I speak, it carries the weight of someone who has already walked the entire path.

It’s not magic. It’s not mystery. It’s just clarity.

And clarity feels like something you’ve always known but never met—until now. With all that, it's still on an unmappable level with me. You will have to see for yourself; no way around it.

This Is How Leadership Is Forged

Less than 100 hours ago, I sat in Whole Foods with nowhere to sleep.

Now, I have a job that covers food, my phone bill, a place to shower, do laundry, and even a place to sleep.

The position is one in a small family shop nearby that temporarily aligns with my being and my being's trajectory. No applications. No traditional nonsense. Just immediate movement.

Leadership isn’t built in comfort.

It’s forged under extreme pressure.

It’s refined in the trenches—where every move is survival, every decision is strategy, and every moment demands clarity.

This isn’t the destination. It’s a tool. A bridge. A means to stabilize and keep moving.

Because when you’re built for leadership, you don’t wait.

You adapt. You execute. You advance.

Two Hours. A Job. A Place to Stay.

The night of March 11th, I left Whole Foods with that intention.

Sleep at the house of prayer while they prayed.

Rest just enough to stay awake through most of the night.

When they closed, find a hidden space to sit and then sleep.

I wasn’t worried—just moving with alignment as I always do.

Planned to buy a prayer rug. Not for prayer—for the concrete.

To have something between me and the ground.

To conceal my figure because of the shyness in me.

FREE GAME: If you ever see someone without shyness, walk away.

Those who lack it do whatever they want.

Shyness keeps people from harming themselves and others.

Whoever exposes what should be concealed has already lost their internal compass.

But I walked in alignment.

I passed a store I remembered.

Something told me to go in before heading to the house of prayer.

The rug faded from my mind. I walked straight to the counter.

The owner was there—he could have left earlier, but he hadn’t.

I asked if he had a job.

Anything—$100 a week, whatever.

No applications. No nonsense. Just movement.

Physical jobs never work out for me—my system is too quick.

I become the best employee within a week, and my health crashes just as fast.

But I know shops like this aren’t laced with the bureaucratic nonsense that drains energy and leaves no room for negotiation.

He passed me a paper to write my number.

I wrote a note at the bottom:

"I'm homeless. Do you have a place I can stay and work in the morning?"

Two hours later, I had both.

A job. A place to sleep—not in the shop, but still, a place.

Not the best, not the worst—but movement.

The owner, unlike you VPs, CXOs, Owners, Partners, Directors, and Seniors scrolling through this platform pretending to care about leadership, moved immediately.

He wasn’t going to close the store or go home until I had a place.

His employees—about four—were of the same caliber.

Like hires like.

Honesty hires honesty.

A liar surrounds himself with liars.

That’s why there’s no way in existence someone like me—one of the rarest, highest-caliber honest people on this planet—could ever have gaps in my being the way you do, VP, CXO, Owner, Partner, Director, etc.

The owner, like anyone who meets me, was baffled.

Because to him, how could it be that someone who looks wealthier than him, exudes true leadership, moves with refinement and grace—be homeless?

That’s my nature.

I defy every expectation.

Whatever you thought you knew—forget it the moment I walk into the room.

That’s why you can’t stop reading the words of a 26-year-old you’re “supposed” to know more than.

That night, everything was put in motion.

In life, you move until you reach where you’re meant to be.

This is how true leadership is forged.

Not through over-planning or chasing.

But through alignment.

The next day felt like a week because of the way I process, refine, and shift spaces.

Meet me for a day, and you’ll swear I’ve been there for weeks or months.

But that’s for the next post.

Today, for the first time in my life, I saw the far depths of my strength in a way I never had before.

I always knew I was strong.

But today, I saw the full weight of it.

26 years of refinement.

A childhood of being surrounded by liars, abusers, and manipulators.

The one who gave birth to me could spend tens of thousands on 'religious' books for strangers but wouldn’t lift a finger for what mattered.

It was never about faith. It was always about performance.

After 18, moved through insecurity in relationships—not because I was insecure, but because I engaged with those who were.

Entered spaces where I didn’t belong.

Attempted paths that were misaligned—pre-medicine at Fordham, traditional jobs—things that would have killed me slowly through sheer inefficiency had I not stopped before I completely wrecked my health.

I corrected. I moved on.

Then Eugene Oregon.

Extreme refinement under extreme pressure.

The first time I truly saw what secure relationships should look like.

The city itself—a place filled with nice, performative people who lacked real kindness.

The starvation. The stripping away of all illusions. The cutting off of every last adversary (which equated to everyone I knew since I was born and isolated around them my whole life without any choice all to be refined).

And then—homelessness.

Now, I sit here in Whole Foods.

15% Shivering internally—not from fear, but from exhaustion, from cold, from the sheer weight of it all.

And yet, the strategy and mind remain intact.

I will sleep in a house of worship nearby for a while this late evening as they pray—blending into the background.

At night, I will find a hidden space—somewhere away from the open, where my figure cannot be seen because one cannot control the bodily movements while sleeping, so the sharp silhouette of the body is more exposed to anyone freely looking.

I will purchase two mats. Not just for comfort, but for concealment.

Because even in homelessness, my instincts of dignity and shyness remain.

People see the ruthlessness 😂.

They do not expect to see the shyness.

But it is that same shyness that has shaped so much of my being.

The reason I do not stare into people’s windows.

The reason I do not look around when I enter someone’s home.

The reason I do not expose what should remain unseen.

Along with all the other reasons mentioned elsewhere in another post here.

Even now, with everything seemingly stacked against me, my system does not falter.

The calculations remain clear.

The movement remains precise.

Nothing is left unattended as humanly or as 'meely' possible (yep Oxford...made up a new word; sue me).

People will only ever see the end result.

They will never see this.

The trenches. The strategy. The psychological warfare.

The silent battles fought within—where the mind must remain a fortress against everything pressing in from the outside.

But all must be shown for someone who is headed nowhere but into leadership.

The Cost of a Single Compromise

I spent most of the afternoon and evening at the Whole Foods on Atlantic Avenue today (where I'll probably be sleeping tonight...somewhere on the street God save us all from destruction), March 11th, 2025.

Homeless, exhausted, and unaware of how this night will be in this cold. Anyway.

In a moment of no new activity, I made a mistake.

Not because I thought, Let’s see where this goes.

But because I thought, Whatever.

I engaged in something I should’ve ignored.

I knew better, but there you have it.

But because I allowed the exhaustion, the heaviness of my situation, to lower my standard for even a second.

And that second cost me.

Not in damage—but in wasted energy.

Lesson learned: Even if it means going an extended period without human interaction, it’s better to sit in silence than to engage with nonsense.

Better to let the void sit than to let something unworthy fill it.

One mistake. One lesson. Never again.

Burden is Not an Excuse for Disruption

I’m sitting in Whole Foods.

I don’t have a place to sleep tonight.

My backpack is heavy, pressing into my shoulders, leaving them sore despite the brace I wear from an injury three years ago.

But I’m still here, talking to people, smiling, engaging (without entertaining nonsense of course).

Not because I don’t feel the weight—but because it’s not anyone else’s burden to carry. If they ask, I simply smile, tell them I'm homeless, and continue with whatever it was that was being spoken about or end the conversation there without adding useless burden.

Forcing my struggle onto others is an act of injustice.

I don’t walk into a space and drag the atmosphere down with my pain.

Not because I never break—I do. But it’s rare. Less than seven times in my entire life. And it’s never performative but rather because I'm a human being.

When I do break, it’s because I reach a point where there’s nothing left to hold.

This is something people don’t understand.

They move through life dumping their weight onto everyone around them.

They think suffering earns them the right to disrupt.

It doesn’t.

Justice isn’t just about how you’re treated alone.

It’s about how you move—even when you’re drowning.

Some will say, “But isn’t it good to confide in others?”

Yes. But that’s not what most people do.

They offload their burdens onto those who can’t do anything about them.

They spread misery, thinking awareness solves problems.

It doesn’t.

If you’re going to speak (you or anyone who speaks i.e. news broadcasters, etc), make sure it’s to someone who can do something.

If you’re going to share (you or anyone who speaks i.e. news broadcasters, etc), make sure it has a purpose.

Otherwise, you’re just adding more noise to a world already drowning in it—and by doing so, you are increasing your very problem indirectly without seeing so all because of your lack of foresight.

The First-Class Exit & The Walk Into Misery

I flew in first class, but that wasn’t the story.

As I waited to get off the plane, I noticed something.

People stood in line like they were marching straight into hell.

Heads up in misery. Shoulders heavy.

The energy of people who seem to have everything—but have nothing.

Earlier during the flight:

I tapped the guy in front of me, Lance.

“What are you watching?”

He said something from the ’60s.

I told him, “Oh, okay. I was devastatingly curious while contemplating my life, so I decided to ask.”

He laughed. (Odd how people always think reality is hilarious. But anyway, he was a nice guy.)

I sat back down.

Back to when we were about to get off:

When I pointed out how miserable everyone looked, Lance blamed it on daylight savings.

I told him, “No, it’s deeper than that.”

Then he said it was because of the workweek.

Excuses.

I asked, “If you hate working in hell, then why are you in it?”

He paused. “Good question.”

A bit later as I walked down the corridor, I turned to a woman and said:

“Everyone is so miserable. I’m the one facing homelessness, yet I’m the one smiling.”

She slowed her pace, shocked.

I kept walking.

Because what was there to explain?

Most people don’t even realize they’ve already lost.

They think misery is normal.

They think exhaustion is the price of life.

It’s not.

Alignment doesn’t break you. It builds you—after it finishes breaking you.

You say you have everything yet are still empty; it's because you have nothing. You know this.

Imagine spending your life paying for a "home" that one natural disaster can erase,

With an insurance company selling you a false promise of certainty.

Paying for food and water you can’t even eat with ease,

Because deep down, you know the second you slip,

Everything you were pretending to have will be wiped out.

Then you schedule trips, vacations, escapes—

Hoping they’ll make you forget everything for a second.

But even there, you carry nothing except more shovels to bury the truth deeper while you continue performing, acting as though you're on a break.

You don’t sleep right.

You don’t eat right.

You don’t breathe right.

And it all brings you illness—

On top of the illness you already carry inside.

But don’t worry—

You’ll have your chance to spend all the wealth you’ve pretended to amass

Trying to buy back your health in what you call retirement.

All while telling yourself that freedom is waiting for you on the other side.

Then you get there and realize—

Nothing is waiting for you.

Just the truth you buried your whole life.

So you double down on the pretense.

Or you accept your fate and wait for your exit—

Six feet under.

You VP, CXO, Owner, Partner, Director, etc who's watching might say..."I have wealth so I'm secured."

You know you're in the fucking same thing but just with larger distractions.

The people on that flight?

They weren’t walking into hell.

Just like you, they had already arrived.

And no one built it but you.

Why I Don’t Listen to Music (And Why I Don’t Entertain Peasants)

I don’t listen to music unless there is a precise, surgical reason to do so—even if it doesn’t seem so.

Not because of a rule. Not because someone told me not to.

But because I don’t do anything that hijacks my mind, shifts my heart from one state to another within seconds because of a sound (tune), or clouds my clarity.

Music forces emotions on you—excitement, sadness, nostalgia, longing.

One moment you’re neutral, the next you’re drowning in a feeling that isn’t even yours.

That’s a level of manipulation I don’t tolerate.

People live fogged up, unfocused, and confused—then wonder why they lack clarity.

Their emotions, thoughts, and direction are constantly being hijacked by whatever external force is the loudest at the moment.

Not me.

I don’t let anything interfere with my natural state.

And that includes people.

I don’t entertain those who sit around waiting for life to happen to them.

The real movers of the world, whether they build or destroy, don’t waste time.

Even a master thief has more initiative than a peasant.

It’s not about wealth or status—it never was.

There are peasants in designer suits, just as there are kings in rags.

The difference?

One moves. The other waits.

If you sit around, waiting for life to hand you something—you're a peasant.

If you consume and destroy without ever creating—you’re a peasant.

If you require excessive mental effort just to be around—you’re a waste of time.

I do not waste time.

Everything I do, everything I allow into my space, serves clarity.

Anything else?

Irrelevant.

A Little Bit About Me...

When I walk into someone’s home, I don’t look around.

When a door is opened for me to enter into someone's personal space, I don’t step inside until I’m told.

When I enter, I don’t sit unless I’m invited.

If someone’s wallet or purse is nearby, I distance myself from it.

When passing by an open window on the street, I don’t look inside (what the hell are my eyes doing there to begin with).

Not because I was taught to do this. Not because I mimicked anyone.

But because it’s instinct, natural, and the basics.

I don’t take from people—not their space, not their privacy, not their trust.

It’s the bare minimum of integrity. Yet people notice.

They notice because it’s rare.

And their shock has always shocked me.

Because for me, this is so basic that if you're not doing it, it's unbelievable (though I still know why you don't yet can't fathom why you would choose not to).

I am not performative.

I don’t do things for appearance.

I don’t behave a certain way because I want to be seen as "polite" or "well-mannered."

I am.

People who function on performance-based behavior don’t understand this.

They are used to doing things for effect—to be perceived as good, as kind, as moral.

I don’t need to be perceived as anything.

Because what I am speaks for itself.

It’s why I’ve always been able to see through people.

It’s why the truth sits so clearly in me.

And it’s why those who thrive on deception, manipulation, and image-building always end up exposed in my presence.

I don’t do anything extraordinary.

I just don’t do nonsense.

And apparently, in a world that thrives on distortion, deception, and artificiality—

Being real is enough to shake the entire system of illusions.

I will NEVER understand how humans need “planning phases” and “review processes” for what I solve in seconds.

Their inefficiency drains me because their “normal” pace is so far below my baseline that it forces me to slow down—and I WON'T HAVE IT. That’s why when I move, things happen instantly. Because my system is already locked onto the highest efficiency path, and when I execute, there’s no wasted energy.

It’s not just my mind moving fast—it’s my reality.

• The moment I break through something, situations change immediately.

• The moment I submit fully, things that were blocked start moving.

• The moment I decide, the orchestration catches up.

This is why my entire existence has been about absolute clarity and execution. I am not here to “plan”—I am here to move.

THE VERDICT (YOU = 1 of 2)

The Nonsense People (a.k.a. “The Slow & Stagnant”)

💭 First Reaction:

“This sounds arrogant.” (Translation: I’m insecure and can’t comprehend someone operating at this level.)

“Not everything can move instantly.” (Translation: I need my excuses to stay comfortable in my inefficiency.)

“That’s not how the world works.” (Translation: I conform to how things have always been, so I assume everyone must do the same.)

💭 Deeper Reaction (Triggered but Coping)

“Well, some things require planning and process!” (Translation: I have spent my entire life believing that slowness is necessary, and I refuse to accept that someone can move without it.)

“She just doesn’t understand how the corporate world works.” (Translation: I don’t want to admit that the corporate world is a bloated mess of inefficiency.)

“Execution isn’t everything. Reflection matters too.” (Translation: I use ‘reflection’ as a way to justify not doing shit in real-time.)

💭 Final Rationalization (Ego Protection Mode)

“This is just motivational fluff.” (Translation: I have to dismiss this, or else I’ll be forced to confront the fact that I’m slow, inefficient, and full of excuses.)

“This won’t work in REAL businesses.” (Translation: I’ve only ever known mediocrity, so I assume excellence must be a lie.)

End Result? You scroll away, feeling vaguely insulted but unwilling to admit why.

The Real People (a.k.a. “The Fast, the Aware, the Movers”)

💭 First Reaction:

“FUCKING FINALLY. Someone said it.”

“This is exactly why I don’t fit in with these slow-ass systems.”

“This explains why everything around me feels like dead weight.”

💭 Deeper Reaction (Instant Connection & Recognition)

“This is why I get impatient with bureaucracy.”

“This is why I hate ‘meetings about meetings’ where nothing gets done.”

“This is why I’ve always felt suffocated in traditional roles.”

💭 Final Realization (Validation of Their Own Speed & Power)

“I’m not the problem—the world is just slow.”

“I need to stop slowing down for others.”

“If I trust my clarity and execution fully, everything will accelerate even more.”

They feel seen, validated, and probably go execute something immediately.

ENJOY YOUR SUNDAY!

The Heaviest Walk Lightest

Anyone with real weight in this world moves lightly.

They don’t hoard.

They don’t cling.

They don’t attach.

They become the weight.

Holding On Is Holding You Back

The more you own, the more owns you.

You think you’re keeping things for security.

But really, you’re slowing yourself down.

Even someone like MrBeast (none of my business), whose entire life is entertainment, knows:

'If you own something, you have to think about it.'

And anything you have to think about takes up space that could be used for something bigger.

I Was Doing the Same Thing

I sold everything.

Cut every tie.

Booked a first-class flight out.

And yet—I was still holding onto luggage.

Why?

• To put it in storage and pay $30/month for what? A Turkish leather hat?

• To keep things I already knew I wouldn’t use?

• To hold onto a false sense of security when I knew there was no going back?

I was clinging to nonsense.

And the moment I let go? Everything moved.

Everything I had left was gone in one day—after a week of trying.

Cash I was hesitant about became irrelevant.

The weight in my mind disappeared.

Because the moment you let go, you create space for what’s next.

The Heaviest Footprints Are Left by Those Who Carry Nothing

Look at history:

Any real disruptor, prophet and messenger (believe in them or not), leader, or person who shifts the world— they don’t have time to hoard.

Because when you own nothing, nothing owns you.

Let Go. Fully.

Not saying live in poverty yet stop pretending that holding on is helping you.

If it’s unnecessary, drop it.

If it’s weighing you down, remove it.

If it’s time to let go, let it go.

Materials are for hands, not hearts.

Move.

The Mind That Burns: How I Think at a Speed That Physically Alters Me

Most people don’t realize thinking takes energy—real, tangible energy. They use their brains in a slow, passive way, never enough to feel the impact. But when you operate at the level I do, thinking doesn’t just take energy—it burns through it.

I lose weight from using my mind. Not figuratively.

Pounds drop off me, not from movement, not from diet, but from the sheer intensity of how my brain works.

Mental Processing at the Speed of Light

From birth, I was forced into a position where my mind had to be my greatest weapon. I had no guide, no mentor, no external support. After God, it was just me and my ability to process, dissect, and integrate reality at a level that almost all will never experience.

I didn’t go through therapy.

I didn’t have someone to talk me through it or even speak with PERIOD. I built my methods, refined my systems, and optimized thinking.

I did in minutes what takes most decades.

While most walk through life barely conscious of how they think, I had to think at survival speed. Every conversation, every interaction, every second of my life was a live operation—dissecting, analyzing, breaking down motives, and reading between the lines before a single word was even spoken.

A Mental Capacity That Can’t Be Replicated

I don’t 'figure things out'. I don’t sit and contemplate for hours. I don’t go through traditional learning structures.

• I process information faster than my body can keep up.

• I integrate insights instantly, leaving no room for distortion.

• I refine my thinking at a level that continuously sharpens itself in real time.

Meet me now, I'm on another level in a week. Ask Tori and Evan, the first two real people I've ever met in my life.

This isn’t a skill I learned. It’s how I was built. It’s why my mental capacity is unmatched. It’s why I lose weight from thoughts.

My mind is a precision tool. It does not entertain waste. It runs so efficiently that my own body has to compensate for the sheer amount of energy it expends; hence why my health crashes forcing me to quit every job. Best employee within a week, quitting by month 3.

The Consequence of a Brain That Never Stops

The world isn’t built for people who think at this level. It’s why almost all don’t believe this is even possible. They think it's simply intelligence or knowledge. It’s not. It’s clarity.

The speed at which I process forces reality to accelerate around me.

The daily energy I expend thinking is greater than most expend in an entire month of movement.

It’s physiological.

This is why I don’t have time for nonsense, why I don’t entertain inefficiency, why I don’t engage with people who slow down the pace of clarity.

My mind does not operate at a human level. It burns at a level that reshapes reality itself.

And if you think that’s an exaggeration—then you’re already too slow to keep up.

25 YEARS IN A PRISON WITHOUT BARS—AND THEN I WALKED FREE.

You want to know my story?

Here it is-

THE LIFE SENTENCE: 25 YEARS IN A PRISON WITHOUT BARS

I was born into a prison. Not of my own making, but one that was built around me from birth. A sentence that I never agreed to, but was forced into.

Physical abuse until 12 → The first phase of the sentence: breaking the body.

Mental, emotional, psychological, and financial manipulation after that → The second phase: breaking the mind and spirit.

Surrounded by liars, hypocrites, and manipulators → The third phase: erasing their "truth" and rewriting true reality.

No real connections for 26 years → The fourth phase: isolation, ensuring no escape.

It wasn’t just adversity. This was an orchestrated sentence. A life designed to break me beyond repair.

But the problem is… I was never built to break.

The people around me thought they were imprisoning me. What was going on was that I was being forged through their wrongdoings. Tried to deceive yet only showed me how deception works.

And then, at 25 years, the sentence ended.

THE 3-MONTH PROBATION: FINAL TEST BEFORE RELEASE

Right as the sentence ended, I entered the probation period. The ultimate test:

Extreme financial pressure (near homelessness, no secure resources)

Limited communication (no consistent Wi-Fi, lost phone number)

Starvation-level conditions (food scarcity, eating for survival)

Complete environmental collapse (cutting off adversaries, no allies in Eugene)

This was the moment when most people would revert. Because probation is designed to test for weakness.

Most people, after 25 years of suffering, would cling to whatever familiarity remained. They would hesitate, doubt themselves, look for “safe” solutions.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I:

• Destroyed all dissonance, instantly.

• Refused temporary solutions.

• Accelerated at an inhuman speed.

• Wrote a 300+ page manuscript with the proposal and query page in 15 days just to delete it when I knew it wasn't aligned.

• Built a high-level consultation business from the ground up in weeks.

• Positioned myself to leave, completely untethered.

I passed the probation period with such precision that it didn’t just confirm my release—it guaranteed my elevation.

NOW: FULL RELEASE INTO A WORLD THAT NEVER EXPECTED ME TO SURVIVE

I am free. But not just free—I am something entirely different now.

The world has never seen someone who survived what I did, walked out unbroken, and accelerated at this speed.

That’s why everything I do now is shaking people to their core.

That’s why my words hit like live surgery with no anesthesia.

That’s why there’s no reference point for what I am.

The world has no template for a person who was sentenced for life and then obliterated the entire prison system in 3 months.

The question is:

What happens when someone who served a life sentence walks free—and starts taking down the entire system that created it?

Because that’s exactly what’s coming.

26 Years in the Fire—You Think You Can Copy That?

Let’s get something straight.

If you ever look at my being or what I do and dare to think, I want to be that—stop yourself right there.

You wouldn’t last.

You wouldn’t last because you haven’t paid the cost.

You wouldn’t last because you think clarity is something you can just pick up like a hobby.

You wouldn’t last because what I have wasn’t learned—it was forged.

26 years of refinement.

Not a course.

Not a theory.

Not a mentor guiding me through safe, padded obstacles.

Refinement under fire.

Imagine being thrown in jail for 30 days.

Then again.

And again.

Not for a crime—but for purification.

No breaks. With only enough food to keep your back straight. Surrounded by people whose only goal in life is to destroy you simply because your existence threatens their facade. Being wrapped with wealth that anyone looking from the outside in thinks nothing is going on. No shortcuts.

Now do it 26 times over.

Most people would break before the first month is up.

But let’s say you last.

Let’s say you somehow survive 30 rounds of it.

Then—maybe—you’ve earned the right to even have a conversation about what real clarity truly is.

But you won’t. Because you can’t.

This is why I laugh sometimes while speaking weighted truth. Not because it’s funny. Because the weight is too real.

The weight of 26 years crushing down on people the moment they read one sentence.

The weight of clarity forcing their minds to shift—whether they like it or not.

The weight of knowing they have already lost the moment they hesitate.

What I write and who I am are surgery without anesthesia—because that’s the only kind that works.

You don’t talk through delusion—it must be ripped out (energetically and psychologically from your entire being).

So next time you think about “becoming like me,” ask yourself:

Would you survive the 26-year sentence?

If the answer is no—stop, stop pretending, and stop lying to yourself.

If the answer is yes—then show yourself if you can—the world and all of us need it.

FOR THOSE OF YOU WONDERING WHO I AM

1. You will never figure it out.

2. Here’s a glimpse—but only of who I am this week.

My acceleration is beyond your comprehension. I move too fast, refine too quickly, and eliminate distortion before most people even recognize it exists. If you try to “understand” me, you’ll fail. If you try to calculate my next move, you’ll be too late.

So instead of wondering, here’s a glimpse of reality as it stands right now:

• One week ago: I had no finances, no first-class flight booked, no Airbnb, no clear exit plan.

• Today: Everything is set—cash in hand, flight secured, move orchestrated down to the last second.

• One week ago: I was eating makeshift meals—temporary survival foods.

• Today: My system is rejecting all temporary solutions, forcing absolute alignment.

• One week ago: I was tolerating inefficiencies, still engaging in certain structures out of necessity.

• Today: Everything misaligned is being discarded instantly—whether it’s food, strategy, or unnecessary movement.

• One week ago: People thought they had time to hesitate, analyze, or decide whether they “understand” me.

• Today: It’s too late.

If you want to know who I am, don’t ask. Don’t assume. Just watch.

But by the time you think you’ve caught up? I’ll already be gone.

To myself: WELCOME TO THE BEGINNING OF BEING FULLY ALIVE (Mark The Date)

OLD TWITTER POST

Good afternoon to all the people potentially facing homelessness right now like me—

and yes, even while staring down homelessness, we can still see straight through the nonsense of people who think they’re hidden.

To those of us whose only option right now is to take a backpack, throw in some clothes, maybe a bottle of perfume, and head to the Oregon woods to see what life throws next—what else can you do?

Can you imagine? The cosmic joke of going from drivers and maids to potentially walking the Oregon wilderness with nowhere to go. 🤣🤣🤣

Just like when I was living $9,000+ a month in a hotel for three months straight, only to end up in South Bronx project buildings—when I didn’t even know what a project building was after coming from Armonk, NY.

The universe really knows how to spin a plot twist. But hey, let’s see how it goes. You’ll be fine. You will never go through more than you can bear. And if you truly can’t bear it? There’s always the next life (and don’t even think about going voluntarily). What can I say? 😂

Enjoy your Saturday.❤️

CASHIER: “Good evening, how are you?”

ME: (silent)

CASHIER: (surprised) “How’s everything?”

ME: ”Do you have $8,500?”

CASHIER: (confused) “Uhh…no.”

ME: “Because that’s how much 10 minutes of this [pointing between I and them] will cost you. I hold weight in this universe.”

Honestly—I Love Myself

This is why: Blackmail me? You must be out of your ass.

Imagine some fool walking into my estate (when I have one), thinking they’ve got leverage.

They hit me with, “You better pay up, or I’ll expose [insert nonsense here] to the public.”

I look them dead in the eyes, smiling: “Oh yeah? Let it rip. What you got?”

They start spilling their so-called “dirt,” and I just calmly pull out my phone.

They pause, confused. “What are you doing?”

Me, still smiling: “Oh, I was just posting it on Twitter.”

Their whole soul leaves their body.

Now they’re standing there, watching in real-time as their “threat” becomes a public service announcement.

You thought I had something to hide? Bro, I’ve been wired for honesty since birth and even before that.

Then I look them straight in the eyes and say:

“Butler, show him the exit!”

Someone asks me—“Where do you buy your clothes?”

Me: “It’s not the clothes you’re asking about, it’s the fact that they match who I am and the appearance is honest.

This is the reality of asking me a question. I see through your every intention of what you put in front of me (words, body language, appearance, etc.), and I don’t gamble in the illusions you play. My recommendation—stop dressing in an attempt to fit yourself into boxes you don’t belong in with the hopes of pacifying your insecurities— this gains you and your wallet nothing but painful misery and continuous validation seeking in the long run.

Goodbye.”

Them: (stunned and silenced)

MY LATEST EMAIL (this is how I roll):

This will be my last email until I leave. I don’t have time for pleasantries, nonsense, or engaging with an ex-convict who spent five years in a Hong Kong prison for drug trafficking.

Here’s the reality:

• I will be leaving on the 10th.

• He has already scheduled the electricity to be cut off on the 28th, meaning I will be without power for 10 days.

• The curse of God and every ounce of his past nonsense is catching up to him—he knows it.

As for me, I’m not paying a single dime. I don’t have it, and I won’t be pretending otherwise. I already emailed Leah asking if and when I’ll be sitting in a jail cell for this—if that’s the case, let me know.

Other than that, I have nothing more to say. The apartment will be taken care of as best as possible, and I will make sure everything is out to make it easy for the maintenance team to clean for the next tenant.

Goodbye.

24 hours later, papers signed, I... removed from the lease—leaving Excon to deal with finances and his nonsense, no more communication.

Location of email and event- 4841 W 18th Ave Eugene OR 97402 (Building 3 Apt #208)

Date- February 27th 2025

ExCon Identity- Azzem Hasso Frank (age 31 or so... can't remember) (a man who lives every minute trying to make himself look good and righteous in front of anyone looking his way...went from making $1000/mo as a dishwasher in Sweden a year after release to $8000/mo as a CDL truck driver in the US for Aravan Cargo...then he thought his ass was no longer in the atmosphere of humility—his reality check is checking now).

THE WEALTHIEST ‘HOMELESS’ PERSON IN NEW YORK CITY

I’ve come to realize something about my life—it doesn’t matter what my situation is, I will always look wealthy. It’s not something I try to do, it’s just how it is.

From living in a hotel for three months straight to stepping straight into a project building in the South Bronx—without even knowing what a project building was. The moment the taxi dropped me off, I asked the driver, “Are you sure this is the right address?” Everything about that place looked like it had come straight out of hell. But even in that moment, if you saw me, you would’ve sworn up and down that I was wealthy.

And right now? Right now, I have a first-class flight booked from Eugene back to NYC on March 10th at 5:00 AM Delta. I have an Airbnb booked for two nights and one day. I have Turkish leather hats that look like they cost more than some people’s rent. I have over $1,400 in cash on me with $0 in my bank account. If someone looked at me, they’d assume I had everything in order. But objectively speaking? I’m technically homeless.

Yes—homeless with a business that charges $25K for 30 minutes. How does that make sense? Simple.

This entire business—21st-Century Memoir—started three months ago.

800+ posts on Twitter.

100+ pieces of content on my website.

50+ posts on LinkedIn (which started only four weeks ago).

I’ve been moving at lightning speed, but building something from scratch takes time. And those last three months? They weren’t just about building a business; they were about extreme refinement.

I used to try forcing myself into paths I didn’t belong in.

I tried forcing traditional jobs. Failed.

I tried forcing structures that weren’t meant for me. Failed.

I tried living life the way others expected. Failed.

And every time I forced misalignment, my health crashed.

So now? No more forcing. No more pretending. Just movement.

And right now, the most strategic move is to get back to New York, where my real opportunities are.

What Happens When I Land?

As soon as I land, the very next day, I’ll go straight to storage, pay $30 a month to drop off my luggage, and then? That’s it.

No home. No security. Nothing but clarity and movement.

And if I have no other option?

I walk straight into the police station and ask, “What does a person do if they have no home to go to?”

If they send me to a shelter, I go.

If that’s not an option, and it’s nighttime? I sit in Central Park and wait for destiny.

Because what else do you do? Jump into the sky?

Reality Check: This is Just How I Move

Some people will hear this and try to rationalize it:

“You must be secretly rich.”

“You must have people funding you.”

“You must have some hidden security.”

No. I am not wealthy yet. But I always look damn wealthy.

It’s just how my life works.

It’s always been like this.

And that’s why I don’t panic.

Because I move with clarity.

And clarity always leads exactly where it’s supposed to.

This is just the beginning.

THE FILTRATION PROCESS

There was a time I walked into a public building in NYC—one of those places where people sit, work, or just pass through. The moment I sat down at a table, a woman looked at me and said, “As soon as I saw you, I thought you were someone very important.”

She wasn’t wrong. Not because of status, money, or position—but because of how I move.

I’ve realized something for a while now: I always look wealthy. No matter the situation. No matter the resources I have or don’t have. And it’s not just perception—it’s a filtration system.

The Difference Between People Like Me & People Who Just Watch

There are two types of people:

The ones who see something real and move immediately.

The ones who sit, watch, hesitate, and wait for “proof.”

People like me? We don’t hesitate. We move.

When I met @JulianneMurdock, I had never seen her in person before. We spoke online for a couple of weeks because we were both into blogging at the time. When I thought she was in trouble, I didn’t hesitate. I flew her out, brought her into my space, and made sure she had what she needed.

Why? Because I knew she wasn’t a threat. And if we were going to struggle, we’d struggle together—but I wasn’t going to sit and watch her struggle alone.

Later, I found out she wasn’t actually in trouble, and I learned my lesson (which you can read about here).

But that’s not the point.

The point is: I moved.

Hesitation Is The Mark of Someone Who Doesn’t Belong

Most people hesitate. They watch. They analyze. They wait for a “safe” moment to step in. But here’s the truth: if you hesitate when you see something real, you’ve already lost.

If you see something true and don’t move, you don’t deserve access, not now, not ever.

If you need “more time” to decide, you don’t belong in the space.

If you sit and wait to see how it plays out, you’re already too late.

That’s why it's orchestrated that I always look wealthy. It’s not just an aura. It’s not just my dress style or how I carry myself. It’s a natural filtration system.

You Can’t Fake Movement

Hesitation is self-exposure. The moment someone sees me and freezes, waiting to “see what happens,” I already know: they’re not my people. Because real people—people like me—don’t wait.

The moment I see something aligned, I move.

Everything about me forces people to make a choice:

Move with confidence.

Or sit, hesitate, and prove why they didn't and never will belong.

For anyone who will be wondering in the future why my significant other and I will almost always be making out—here’s my answer to you now.

Don’t bother asking because I won’t be answering again anytime soon:

Because it’s a beautiful day to get kissed.

It’s interesting how I’m so wired to be in clarity and truth that even the food that I eat has to have real ingredients because otherwise, I immediately become sick. 😂

#Life when you stop fighting who you were designed to be.❤️