
EPISODE 04
the stash
Alright. Time to get serious for a moment.
Y’all know I like to laugh almost as much as I like to paint. But sometimes you gotta stop smiling and check your surroundings.

Today I took some folks from the defense crew on a walk through Wynwood.
Streets still covered in color, but underneath it? Tension.
I can feel it. They can too.
Told them a story they probably already knew.
A friend of mine—from back in the day—got shot by the cops.
Domestic dispute. They rolled in guns out, didn’t ask questions, just pulled triggers.
He didn’t even get a word out.
So no. I don’t believe the people in uniform are here to help us.

That’s why I say what I say.
Protect your self.
Protect your community.
Protect your environment.
We mean it literally. Because no one’s comin.
It’s us or nobody.
Today, I opened up a stash.
Old gallery, boarded up since way back when. In the back, behind a painting of some happy trees, there's a safe.
Inside? Tools.
Not for war. For patrol. For watch.
I handed them out—tactical gloves, sidearms, plans.
Went over rules. Safety. Formation.
Eyes open. No heroes. Observe. Report.
