I’m just a construction worker. I wasn’t born with a manifesto in my hand or a blueprint for a better world. I wake up, go to work, build things with my hands. But somewhere along the way, I started seeing cracks—not just in the structures we put up, but in the system itself.
I don’t have a title. I don’t have all the answers. I just know this isn’t it.
We wake up exhausted. We trade our time, our energy, our dreams—for what? To keep a machine running that was never built for us? We pay to exist.…