Silence is what remains after bullets finish talking.
I am 25 years old.
I’m an experimental producer.
I work in engineering and architecture for about $170 a month.
I lost my father.
I lost friends.
I lost people I grew up with.
I tried to build a future.
Through art.
Through music.
Through crypto and airdrops.
Through any possible way to survive.
Not because I wanted luxury.
Because I wanted dignity.
Then one man decided to cut us off from the world.
No internet.
No calls.
No messages.
For days, total silence.
Imagine hearing gunshots,
seeing people resist,
and knowing nothing about the outside world.
Then suddenly learning your loved ones are dead.
This street has learned, how to hold its breath.
- Fragment III -
