Project NFT 8 units of 4 bedroom terrace apartment Designed, modeled and rendered by yours truly

I didn’t become this overnight. This was a descent. A fall measured in betrayals, in silence, in nights that stretched too long and thoughts that cut too deep.

They say you either die a hero or live long enough to become the villain but they never talk about what happens in between, in the slow unraveling, in the quiet moments where you feel yourself slipping and no one is there to catch you.

Remember me for what I became in the aftermath for the thing that endured when everything else fell apart.

Not because I wanted to but because I had to. So don’t remember me for who I used to be when everything was still intact. That version of me couldn’t survive what I went through.

They’ll call it change, corruption, failure… but they didn’t feel the breaking. They didn’t stand in that silence where everything you were just… ended. They didn’t have to choose between becoming something unrecognizable or fading into nothing at all. I made my choice.

You start adapting. You learn the language of the dark, you wear it like armor, you let it sink into your bones because it’s the only thing left that doesn’t abandon you. People will look at who I am now and judge it without ever understanding the cost.

L They wait. And when the light stops reaching you, when no one comes back for you, when you realize you’re alone in it… you stop fighting.

I was pushed into it, cornered by it, shaped by it. At first, I fought it I resisted, held on to whatever fragments of myself I could still feel. But the shadows are patient.

The light doesn’t always stay. Sometimes it leaves quietly, sometimes it’s torn out of you, piece by piece, until you wake up one day and realize you don’t recognize the person staring back at you. I didn’t choose the dark the way people think.

I wasn’t born like this. None of us are. There was a time the light in me was real, soft, unguarded, untouched by the weight of what was coming. I believed in things then…in people, in loyalty, in the idea that staying good was enough to keep the darkness away.

I genuinely think mothers are at fault Mothers are at fault for not telling her children the sacrifices the fathers make. My father woke up by 4am (adjusted his time so he doesn't go late to work), He got back home by 11pm sometimes twelve for almost 10-15 years My mother rang it into my head when I thought He did not love me and it is now I see how much He has done in my life. My father will be starving and still share his chicken with me so he can get another alternative to settle himself. I don't know the type of fathers you have but my own father… what a man He is is I will shout it in the roof top for all the world to hear. When God gave me a gift, He gave me Two before I came to this world, My parents. I pray you see how true it is to have a loving father and a caring mother honestly