If I were to unpack everything, we’d be here all day. To keep it brief, here’s what I’m navigating right now:
- People from my past suddenly reappearing with selfish or surface-level intentions.
- Hidden gossip and backhanded behavior from individuals who claim to support and respect me.
- The constant need to show up for myself and others, even when I’m mentally and physically drained.
- The inner conflict between working jobs that don’t fulfill me at a soul level and pursuing my passion, even when results are slower than I’d like.
- The process of unlearning years of negative conditioning and healing old wounds.
Despite it all, I refuse to let these challenges define my path. Instead, I channel them as fuel for growth. I’ve learned that nothing happens to me—it happens for me. Recognizing that these struggles are universal reminds me I’m not alone, and that realization can be empowering.
I make it a point to surround myself with like-minded people who understand how tough this journey can be. So, rather than allowing these circumstances to stop me, I use them as signs that I’m right where I’m meant to be—living in my purpose.
2. What current projects and endeavors are you working on?
Right now, my schedule is packed, and I love every bit of it. I’m performing across the tristate area, exploring different artistic mediums—from spoken word and hip-hop to theater. Each experience sharpens my craft and allows me to connect deeply with fans, fellow artists, and creative minds I never imagined I’d cross paths with. It’s a grind, yes, but it’s the kind of grind that feeds my spirit.
I’m also working on two new books slated for release in 2026. I can’t reveal too much just yet, but trust me—when the time comes, they’ll command the world’s attention. I enjoy the mystery. It’s part of what keeps people intrigued, even if they won’t admit it.
Beyond literature, I’m developing new music and film projects that push my creative boundaries. Outside of art, I focus on maintaining balance—staying healthy, eating clean, protecting my energy, and mentoring others. I offer book consulting and guidance for aspiring writers, sharing insights that took me years to learn. Giving back in this way feels like a full-circle blessing.
3. Does being in the public eye make you uncomfortable at times? Why?
Absolutely. I’ve always been anxious about being under a microscope, even before any success came my way. Everyone deserves privacy, but in today’s world, that concept seems to have lost its value. Anything you do can be twisted, taken out of context, or exploited for attention.
Sometimes it feels like I don’t fit in anywhere, yet I stand out everywhere. The real challenge isn’t dealing with yourself—it’s managing the expectations and projections of others. People often feel entitled to your time, energy, and presence without offering the same in return.
Many haven’t done the internal work needed to see that we’re all on our own paths. Instead of learning from others, they prefer to criticize or wait for a chance to bring someone down. I’ve made my share of mistakes; I’m not perfect. I’m young and still learning. But I’ve learned to recognize when criticism comes from a genuine place versus when it’s rooted in envy or insecurity.
At the end of the day, I pray for those individuals because it’s deeper than me—it’s something unresolved within them. If my light threatens someone’s peace, it’s not my problem; it’s a reflection of what they need to heal.
4. The person you were versus the person you’re becoming – what’s your perspective?
It’s like comparing two completely different worlds. When people talk about someone who’s “beat the odds,” they often highlight only the beginning and the end—but never the transformation in between. That middle ground, that becoming, is where the real story lies.
Growth demands discomfort. You have to face new challenges, leave your comfort zone, and stay consistent through every season—because just like nature, everything evolves, fades, and returns in renewed form.
Looking back, I feel a mix of emotions, but above all, gratitude. My roots were humble. In school, I was the kid too shy to even speak in public. You couldn’t bribe me with a cookie to talk in front of a crowd. Now, I do it with ease, even when I don’t feel like it. That’s growth. That’s faith. I trust in myself and in the higher power guiding me, knowing every obstacle was never meant to break me—but to prepare me for leadership.
5. What can the world expect from you in 2026?
A lot. As I mentioned earlier, I have several major projects lined up that will surpass expectations—both creatively and emotionally. In October 2026, I’ll be celebrating twelve years in the game, and I plan to honor that milestone by channeling everything I’ve learned into work that resonates deeply.
I’ll be revealing every layer of myself—even the ones I’ve kept hidden. I know not everyone will agree with what I put out there, but true art isn’t meant to please everyone. It’s meant to make people feel, reflect, and talk.
I’ve spent years trying to find my voice, and now that I have, I’m using it unapologetically. I’m done standing in anyone’s shadow. I’ve earned my place and I’m thinking long-term. Every move from here on out—it’s chess, not checkers.
6. What is your ultimate goal?
Peace. Solitude. Freedom. That’s the dream.
I envision a future where I own land, build a ranch, and live close to nature—honoring my indigenous roots while detaching from the chaos of modern society. I crave a simple, meaningful life. The wealth and recognition will come, but I refuse to let them consume my soul.
It’s easy to lose yourself in the chase. I’ve been close to that edge before. But I’ve learned that real growth happens in the stillness—in the moments of recovery, not constant hustle. Overextending yourself only leads to burnout and stagnation.
My long-term vision is to create an artist development collective—a space where emerging and established creators can refine their skills, find their confidence, and learn to monetize their art. Not a label, not a hierarchy, but a community. A movement that nurtures leaders who can lead in their own way.
I had to figure out so much on my own, and I don’t want the next generation to face that same isolation. Those of us on the frontlines have a responsibility to pass the torch, to keep the flame of creative freedom alive. Because at the end of the day, expression—real, raw expression—is what connects us all.
