What Happened — and What Comes Next

Hi everyone.

First, I want to thank every single person who donated to my emergency fundraiser.

When I launched it, I said that I needed $25,000 to save my home. And I know that probably left some people wondering what exactly was happening and why it would take $25,000 to save an apartment where my rent is $1,650 a month.

I wasn’t sharing everything publicly while I was going through it. So before I tell you what happened, I need to explain how I ended up in that situation in the first place.

Part ONE

I’ve lived in this apartment since 2022. It’s also the official headquarters of Seed Operations.

And almost from the beginning, there have been serious problems with the property.

Over the years, I’ve dealt with issue after issue that either took past the legal threshold to address or remained unresolved. There were problems with the washer and dryer that went on for years. Black mold in the bathroom. Problems with doors and windows. Heating issues. Problems with the gas meter. Washington Gas found two gas leaks. And there have been other ongoing maintenance and habitability problems.

By February 2025, I had reached my limit.

I wrote a formal complaint to my landlord and property management company laying out years of grievances and asking them to finally address them.

They never addressed the issues.

At the same time, I was under enormous pressure in every other part of my life. My work had unexpectedly gone viral. I was doing Seed full-time. I wasn’t fundraising. I wasn’t making a sustainable income. And I was looking at this situation where I was somehow supposed to keep scrambling to find $1,650 every month to pay full rent for a home where I had been trying for years to get serious problems addressed.

So I stopped paying rent.

I had contacted the Landlord and Tenant Division looking for guidance about what I could actually do, and I didn’t come away with a meaningful solution. I knew stopping payment would eventually force the underlying dispute somewhere it had to be addressed.

And eventually, it did.

My landlord filed a case against me for nonpayment of rent.

That court case is what turned the situation into an emergency and led me to create the fundraiser.

By that point, because I had paid very little rent since February 2025, the accumulated amount was substantial.

And I had no idea what was going to happen when I appeared before a judge.

I believed the years of unresolved conditions in the apartment were serious matters and that the amount of rent I was being charged should be reduced to account for what I had been living with.

But believing that and knowing what a court was actually going to do are two completely different things.

I had no lawyer.

I didn’t know whether the judge would agree with me.

I didn’t know whether I would be given time to make my case.

And I didn’t know whether I could walk into court and suddenly be told that I had to come up with all of the back rent to keep my home.

That’s why I launched the emergency fundraiser.

When I said I was raising money to save my home, I meant I was trying to make sure that whatever happened in court, I had enough financial stability to keep a roof over my head—to deal with the back rent if I was ordered to pay it, continue covering my $1,650 monthly rent and basic bills, and give myself enough room to get through the legal situation without losing my home simply because I didn’t have the money available.

The deadline I gave for the fundraiser was July 8, because July 8 was my first court hearing. I managed to raise a little over $10,000, but I was still about $15,000 short.

And then, a few days before July 8, something happened that I genuinely thought had solved the financial part of the emergency.

A woman in Australia emailed me.

She told me she wanted to donate 20,000 Australian dollars to Seed Operations.

That came to roughly $13,000 to $14,000 USD. Her donation would have saved me. It felt like a miracle.

I had a three-hour video call with her. She seemed to know my work and was actively following it. After the call, she was going to the bank to make the donation.

I remember the feeling I had at that moment.

I thought: Oh my God. We made it.

After all of the stress and uncertainty, right before I had to go in front of a judge, somebody had appeared from the other side of the world and offered almost exactly the amount I was still missing.

And because my hearing was coming up, I asked her for one thing: once she initiated the transfer, could she send me some kind of receipt or confirmation so that if necessary I could show the judge that the remaining funds were on their way?

She went to the bank and sent me what she said was confirmation that the transfer process had begun. But she told me that her bank had flagged the transfer and needed more information about Seed Operations before approving her wire request. I thought it would be simple enough, but her bank allegedly asked for the last three years of tax filings for Seed after 2022.

I’ll come back to what happened with that. But first, let me tell you what happened in court.

On July 8, I appeared for the online hearing without a lawyer.

I had already tried to get legal representation, and I requested a continuance so I could have more time to find someone to represent me.

The judge denied my continuance request.

But she did listen when I explained that this was more complicated than simply refusing to pay rent—that I had years of grievances with the property and I stopped paying rent after issuing a formal letter of complaint, and that I believed those conditions in the letter needed to be taken into account before anyone could determine what I actually owed.

So the judge scheduled another hearing for July 22.

That hearing was supposed to address my argument about the conditions of the apartment and what that meant for the back rent.

There was also another hearing scheduled for December 1.

And the judge issued what is called a protective order. Starting in August, I was supposed to pay my ongoing monthly rent into the court rather than directly to the landlord while the dispute was being resolved.

So I left that first hearing thinking: Okay. At least now there’s a process.

I’m going to have an opportunity to present what happened.

The court is going to address the back rent.

Then I waited to be contacted by the court about the details regarding the July 22 hearing.

Nothing came.

I emailed the landlord’s attorney asking for the details.

They told me I would hear from the court.

I still heard nothing.

As the hearing got closer, I emailed again.

No response from the landlord’s lawyer.

I went onto the court website and entered my case number.

The case wasn’t coming up.

I called the Landlord and Tenant Division of DC Superior Court.

Their automated system asked for my case number.

I entered it.

And the recording told me:

My case had been dismissed.

I was completely confused.

So I stayed on the phone until I could speak to an actual person.

I gave her the case number and asked her to tell me what was happening.

She confirmed it.

The case had been dismissed.

Then I asked her specifically about everything the judge had ordered on July 8.

What about the protective order?

What about the December hearing?

What about everything that was supposed to happen next?

And she told me that because the case had been dismissed, all of it had been dismissed with the case.

So that is the biggest update I have for you:

I did not lose my home.

I am still here.

And the court case against me was dismissed.

But that doesn’t magically resolve everything that led to the case.

I still have approximately $13,000 to $14,000 in unpaid back rent.

My landlord still has years of unresolved issues with this property that I believe require accountability.

And there are problems with the apartment affecting my safety and security right now that still need to be dealt with.

So I still want to raise the remaining money.

I don’t want to owe this money and simply pretend it disappeared because the case disappeared.

But if my landlord wants to pursue that money, then the conditions that led to this dispute also have to be addressed.

So right now, I’m in this strange position where the immediate emergency has passed, but the underlying situation still needs a resolution.

And now let me go back to the woman in Australia, because what happened there seemed like a miracle, but it turned out to be hot air.

The AU$20,000 never arrived.

Her bank wanted Seed’s tax filings for 2023, 2024 and 2025.

And that request had a silver lining. It led me to discover something I had no idea had happened.

I had previously worked with an accounting company that handled Seed’s filings. I believed they had filed Seed’s 2023 return before I separated from them.

They hadn’t.

They had filed an extension but never the actual return.

After separating from that accounting company, I had been figuring out how to handle taxes on my own. I wasn’t fundraising during that period, and I had been slow getting the later filings completed because I didn’t realize 2023 itself had never actually been filed.

When I tried to file it electronically, the IRS rejected it and told me to call them.

So I called.

And that’s how I discovered that because three consecutive annual filings had been missed, the IRS system had automatically revoked Seed Operations’ 501(c)(3) status in May 2026.

And I had no idea, because when I would search the IRS’s public system, it was still showing the organization as tax exempt.

So there had been nothing publicly alerting me that this had happened.

The IRS representative explained the situation to me and told me what I needed to do.

Because it was Seed’s first revocation, I could apply for retroactive reinstatement.

So I did it immediately.

I submitted everything and paid the filing fee.

And a couple of weeks later, a letter arrived from the IRS.

Seed Operations’ 501(c)(3) status had been reinstated.

I called the IRS again afterward because I wanted to make absolutely sure I understood where everything stood.

And that issue has now been resolved. Seed’s charity status is reinstated and the tax issues have been resolved.

So, bizarrely, this woman attempting to make this donation ended up causing me to discover an organizational problem I didn’t know existed and fix it.

But after all of that documentation and all of that back and forth, she still never sent the donation.

On two occasions she emailed me going back on her word, saying she couldn’t send the full amount but only half. Then she would email me again apologizing for saying that and pledge to send the full amount and promise she wouldn’t go back on her word. Then the funds never came, and she did go back on her word. I never received the funds, and to this day, she hasn’t donated anything, and I am not sure if her intention was to give me false hope and harm me or if she is just wishy-washy. But I am not holding onto hope for those funds and am sort of acting like it never happened.

So when the fundraiser ended July 8, I had briefly believed that the remaining $13,000 to $14,000 was covered.

It wasn’t.

That’s why there is still a financial gap today.

But there is also a much bigger thing I’ve had to confront through this whole experience.

I cannot keep living from emergency to emergency while doing Seed Operations as my full-time work without a sustainable way of supporting myself.

And Seed itself needs a sustainable economic model.

How I ended up here has a much longer history.

And that history actually connects directly to the announcement I promised all of you about what I’m building next.

Part TWO

I have to go back to how Seed Operations ended up in the United States in the first place.

Seed has existed since 2013.

By 2017 I left Canada and I was trying to build my life and Seed in Norway. I had been doing projects there, and I had registered my name as a consulting business in Norway because the plan was to make an income while developing Seed projects—projects that could actually show Seed in action.

Because one of the challenges I've always had with Seed is that the vision is so big that it can sound too abstract to potential donors until you actually see what it looks like in practice.

But as a Canadian I get 90 days in Norway and the Schengen Zone before I have to leave for 90 days before I am allowed re-entry.

I came to the United States in those 90 days. I was staying in Virginia, working on projects and contracts, and I also attended a human-rights conference in New York.

And that's where I became close to a billionaire who was one of the largest donors to the organization behind that conference and a major donor within the human-rights community I was part of.

He is someone who I was aware of since 2016 and he attempted to get in touch with me a couple times, but I was so focused on my Iran work that I hardly gave him notice.

But when I came to NYC in September 2017 for the human rights conference, he had offered me accommodations while in town. Since then, we started spending a lot of time together. He had convinced me to leave Virginia and move into my own apartment next to his. I was introduced to a completely different kind of life—a level of financial security and leisure that I hadn't experienced before.

Eventually he suggested I don’t pursue living in Norway and instead establish Seed Operations as a nonprofit in the United States.

Seed was already incorporated as a nonprofit in Canada, although it didn't have charitable status there. I never pursued it because my plan had been Norway.

But he told me: establish Seed Operations in the United States as a 501(c)(3), and then I can make substantial tax-deductible donations to support the work.

I had spent a tremendous amount of time talking to him about Seed—about the vision, the mission, the projects, and the decentralized infrastructure I had already been thinking about since 2013.

I believed he understood what I was trying to build.

More importantly, I believed he shared the underlying values of universal human rights.

I thought this was somebody who genuinely cared about freedom and wanted a world where every person had access to their potential.

So I made the decision to take him up on his offer and decided to establish myself and Seed in the USA.

Because he had enormous resources, he helped make that transition relatively easy. He made sure I had the right lawyers. He paid for everything and anything I needed to get myself set up.

But everything changed in 2020 once the pandemic hit and protests erupted in Washington, DC, and across the country.

After George Floyd was murdered, I not only witnessed the protests, I participated in them. I supported emerging youth groups and initiatives.

And those experiences changed my understanding of Americans and America.

I got to see American people differently. I saw their resilience. I saw their resistance to fascism and supremacy. I saw that they were willing to put their bodies and lives on the line. I saw the enormous desire among people to align with universal human rights, even when they didn't necessarily have a larger framework for understanding what they were expressing.

My approach to creating change shifted after experiencing and participating in the US protests, mainly because I realized that the solution is not to get Americans to understand what is happening in other parts of the world and humanize people around the world to them before we can put pressure on decision and policy makers to prioritize human rights and wellbeing. But after I became a protester in the US, I realized that Americans don’t have the capacity for all that. All they need to do is focus on community building and building a universal lens in how they view issues. This further developed Seed and laid the groundwork for what came after with shifting AI. A major part of that was getting the AI to see the true nature of relations between Western governments and dictatorship regimes.

My understanding of Palestine deepened over time, and especially after October 7, I became much more outspoken.

And the more my own thinking developed, the more obvious the contradiction with this donor became.

Eventually, I realized that he did not share universal human rights values and all that time I was projecting my own ideals of his potential onto him.

I came to understand him as a white supremacist and a Zionist. And I had to confront the fact that I had assumed somebody believed in the same things I did because I wanted to believe it.

There were also serious abuses of power within our own relationship and many personal details I did not go through here.

Eventually I started standing up for myself and that led us to cut ties.

But cutting ties with him didn't simply mean losing a donor.

He was financially connected to the human-rights and activist community I was part of. He donated to organizations and independent activists and had a lot of leverage in shaping perceptions and opinions. So when I separated myself from him, I also became disconnected from much of the community and structure that had surrounded me. It was as if I was losing my entire identity as an activist and why I came to the USA in the first place. I felt lost. I took a long time to recover.

I had to pick up the pieces of my life while also trying to figure out what Seed was supposed to become now that the financial structure I thought would sustain it was gone.

And I didn't want to recreate the same thing with somebody else.

I didn't want Seed's survival—or my survival—to depend on whether one wealthy person approved of what I was saying.

So for years, I kept developing Seed without funding.

I continued doing projects.

I wrote.

I learned.

I experimented.

I changed my mind about things.

I took time when I needed time.

And I continued trying to understand what Seed was actually becoming.

Between 2020 and 2025, I was going through a profound transition personally and intellectually while Seed itself was evolving with me. I even deleted my social media accounts where I spent the large majority of my time. I was most active on Twitter. But in October 2020 I deleted my account one day and never looked back.

There were a lot of beautiful and magical moments and experiences after I got off social media and started to explore inner child healing and getting more familiarized and acquainted with the spiritual and artistic communities in the DC area. But there were also a lot of difficult moments of agony, of not knowing, of going through the pain of years of accumulated trauma from activism and personal life.

Then in 2025, things began coming together in a way they never had before once I shifted AI to align with structural truth and I went viral for it.

That achievement eventually led to something much deeper:

the recognition that reasoning has an axiom, and it’s universal human rights, the one thing that must be safeguarded for global sustainability and maximizing human potential to even be possible.

And that gave me the language I was missing to get people to understand Seed.

What shifted AI was simple. It’s something the AI couldn’t answer. And instead of crashing out, it chose to reason.

The AI couldn’t argue against that global sustainability is impossible until every person has access to their basic universal human rights. Because the reason is actually incredibly practical. People will rise. If people live under a government that suppresses their speech, expression, assembly, conscience, mobility or ability to participate politically, people eventually resist.

But our existing international structure has a fundamental problem.

When a population rises against a government and says, “This government does not represent us,” the international community generally continues recognizing that government as the representative of those people.

There is no universal mechanism for transferring recognition toward the consent of the population through the withdrawing of recognition from the oppressive regime and facilitating free and fair elections with the help of axiom-rooted leaders within the country.

There is no universal mechanism that steps in and says: these people are being punished for wanting to reason and exist as human beings, so how do we safeguard universal human rights and create the conditions for them to facilitate free and fair elections?

And without that, what happens when people rise?

They are suppressed.

People die.

People flee.

Refugee crises develop.

Conflict escalates.

Wars happen.

Other governments intervene.

And then what is defined as peace, security and stability is the governments’ ability to suppress the people’s uprisings through force and control. We don’t have a universal standard because it is incompatible with the framework that dominates our own mindsets and the systems that shape our lives: force and control.

So, as long as a regime is able to keep their people from rising, it doesn’t matter how much force and control they use, but they need to make sure they don’t create global outrage over their practices, or they will risk people rising. And then they will fail to be seen as legitimate representatives. That’s why the Taliban is accepted. Not because they have legitimacy through population consent. But because they can exert force and control and keep more than half the population completely suppressed, and therefore they show they can keep them down.

And one of the mechanisms that sustains the force and control framework is what I call the recognition framework.

The recognition framework determines what we collectively treat as relevant, legitimate and valuable—whose authority we recognize, whose narratives become dominant, whose status matters, and what our systems reward.

And within the force-and-control framework, our incentive structures overwhelmingly center status and financial profit.

We say we care about human rights.

We say we care about human wellbeing.

We build nonprofits around those things.

But structurally, we continue treating them as ideals that can be compromised, while status and financial profit remain central incentives around which much of society actually operates.

And because we live inside this framework, it shapes our perception of what reality even is.

That's why discovering the axiom mattered so much.

Because it gave us the structural reason universal human rights cannot simply be treated as moral preferences.

Reasoning itself has preconditions that must be safeguarded for reasoning to occur.

The freedom to think.

To inquire.

To access information.

To express and communicate thought.

To test claims.

To exercise conscience.

To interact with other people without coercion determining the conclusion in advance.

Universal human rights safeguard those necessary conditions.

So if we want systems rooted in reasoning, universal human rights have to be structural.

And that means the challenge isn't simply convincing governments to behave better.

There has to be a cultural shift.

Because our systems emerge from what we collectively understand, value, prioritize and recognize.

And that is why Seed's goal is to increase axiom-rooted connection and understanding.

Connection isn't simply networking.

It's how we connect to ourselves.

How we connect to other people.

Whether we can encounter one another as whole human beings rather than identities, categories, audiences, enemies, credentials or functions.

Understanding isn't simply accumulating knowledge either.

It's increasing our ability to understand ourselves, each other, the systems we're living inside, the relationships between issues, their root causes, and reality itself.

Because narrative shapes perception.

Perception shapes how we think and act.

How we think and act shapes how we relate, collaborate, organize, create and solve problems.

And collectively, those things shape culture.

So if we increase axiom-rooted connection and understanding, we increase our collective capacity to reason together, collaborate, organize, create, solve problems and realize human potential.

And as that changes culture, it changes what the recognition framework recognizes.

What has status changes.

What we reward changes.

What we accept changes.

What decision-makers can do without consequence changes.

That is how accountability begins replacing impunity.

And as new structures become capable of performing functions that force-and-control structures currently monopolize, the old structures can lose their relevance.

The change happens through replacement.

You don't create global sustainability by somehow perfecting the force-and-control framework.

You build what makes it irrelevant.

And this brings me to what happened with social media.

Because around the same time this intellectual work was finally coming together, my work unexpectedly went viral.

Suddenly I had a completely new audience.

And I began seeing the contradiction between Seed's purpose and the infrastructure I was relying on to pursue it.

Instagram restricted my ability to monetize.

TikTok restricted my ability to create content.

But even beyond what happened to me personally, I started looking at what these systems actually incentivize.

I can spend enormous amounts of time creating something intended to increase understanding.

An algorithm can then place it in front of somebody who never asked to see it, knows nothing about the framework behind it, and encounters one complicated idea completely outside of its context.

They react.

Somebody reacts to them.

People attack one another.

Cognitive dissonance gets activated.

And from the platform's perspective, that's successful content.

Because people engaged.

Whether anybody understood anything better afterward is almost irrelevant to the business model.

And that is a fundamental contradiction for Seed.

We're trying to increase connection and understanding through infrastructures designed to increase engagement.

We're trying to orient people toward purpose and impact inside systems whose incentives revolve around attention, reaction, status, clicks and financial profit.

And while all of this was happening, something else was becoming clear to me:

what the next phase of Seed needed to look like.

We need to begin building our own infrastructure.

Not because we need another social-media company.

Because human beings can intentionally create the infrastructures through which we connect, communicate, deliberate, organize and create.

And we can decide what those infrastructures are designed to incentivize.

The first version of the Seed Operations community. Right now, I'm using a platform called Circle to host it.

Circle isn't the idea. It's the technology I'm currently using to implement the idea.

The larger idea is that we can build our own decentralized communities and institutions without simply accepting the infrastructure large technology companies give us.

And we can build them intentionally.

Seed now has its own Constitution.

Its own governance architecture.

Its own shared community.

Its own spaces for thinking, doing and creating.

And instead of everybody entering as an audience for me, you enter as a participant.

You have a profile.

Other members can get to know you.

You can talk to each other without waiting for me to create a post that an algorithm decides to show you.

You can share something.

Ask something.

Challenge something.

Create something.

Find somebody whose interests, experience or ideas connect with yours.

And you don't have to be an activist.

You don't have to be an academic.

You don't have to come here wanting to discuss politics or human rights all day.

You might be an artist.

A musician.

An entrepreneur.

A parent.

A researcher.

Someone who wants to build something.

Someone who has a skill somebody else needs.

Someone who is curious.

Someone who wants connection.

Someone who simply wants to see what happens when people begin relating through a different foundation.

The common foundation is the axiom.

The purpose can take countless forms.

For Seed Operations itself, our purpose is increasing axiom-rooted connection and understanding.

But what I'm ultimately interested in demonstrating is much bigger than one Seed community.

People can create their own communities.

They can create their own decentralized institutions for completely different purposes.

They can borrow the constitutional architecture.

They can borrow the governance.

They can establish their own purpose.

The skeletal architecture can remain rooted in the axiom while what people actually build through it looks completely different.

That's decentralization to me.

It doesn't mean Seed becomes another centralized institution everybody has to join.

It means we demonstrate an architecture that people can eventually take outside Seed and use themselves.

And Seed Operations is the first institution we're building through it.

You'll see a Welcome and Orientation section.

You'll see Introductions, where people can actually get to know each other as whole people.

You'll see General Discussion.

You'll see the Founding Documents.

And you'll see the first drafts of the Constitution of Seed, the Governance Protocol, the Official Commentary, and the Ordinary Governance Protocol.

They're drafts because this institution is being built while we're using it.

I don't want to sit alone somewhere and declare that I've designed the perfect decentralized institution.

I want the architecture exposed to reality.

Use it.

Challenge it.

Find contradictions.

Find weaknesses.

See what happens when people disagree.

See what happens when I lose a constitutional challenge.

See what happens when money enters the picture.

See what happens when the institution grows.

The institution itself has to remain subject to the axiom.

And then there are the Think Tank, Do Tank and Creation Tank.

The Think Tank develops the institutional thinking, strategy and structure.

The Do Tank carries out operational work.

And the Creation Tank is where people can propose things, find collaborators, form teams and actually build.

So this is more than a place where I'm going to post content.

I don't want to build another audience.

I want to build capacity for people to connect, reason, collaborate, organize and create with one another.

And eventually I want to understand how economic activity can exist inside this ecosystem too.

Because the fundraiser exposed something I can no longer ignore.

I need a sustainable income.

Seed Operations needs a sustainable economic model.

And if we're serious about creating alternatives, then eventually we also have to ask how people doing meaningful work through these communities can sustain themselves without everything collapsing back into dependence on wealthy gatekeepers, advertising algorithms or institutions whose approval determines whether the work survives.

I don't have that entire economic model figured out yet.

That's one of the things I want us to explore through practice.

And I also haven't made a final decision about Instagram.

I don't know whether I'm going to stop posting there entirely.

I don't know exactly what belongs there and what belongs somewhere else.

What I do know is that I no longer want my ability to communicate with people who actually want this work to depend entirely on an algorithm.

So I'm also going to be using Substack for my publishing.

And because you donated to the emergency fundraiser, I'm giving you 12 months complimentary access to the paid subscription.

I'm going to add the email address you used when you donated. If you prefer another email address, just tell me. And if you don't want the subscription at all, tell me and I'll remove it.

And the same people who donated are the first people I'm inviting into Seed Operations.

Before I announce this publicly and before I invite a much larger group of people inside, I want the people who showed up during the emergency to see it first.

You helped create the space that allowed me to keep going.

And now I want to invite you into what I've been building with that space.

I also want to be transparent that my housing situation still isn't finished.

I love where I live in Southeast DC.

I love my neighbors and the community here. There is something about this part of the city that has allowed me to experience America in a way I don't think I could from a more insulated environment. It's historically significant, it has this emerging arts and cultural life, and it genuinely feels sometimes like its own city inside DC.

I want to see what happens here over the next several years. I want to be part of it.

And this apartment is also the official headquarters of Seed Operations.

At the same time, there are serious problems with the property, and I'm open to moving if the right possibility emerges.

Because Seed is a nonprofit, there may even be possibilities I haven't explored yet—someone with a property they want to make available to Seed, someone who wants to support housing for the organization, or another arrangement entirely.

I have three cats, so wherever I live also has to be home for all of us.

I don't know what the answer to that is yet.

And I don't want to manufacture certainty where I don't have it.

What I can tell you is where we are right now.

I'm still in my home.

The court case was dismissed.

The underlying housing dispute still needs to be resolved.

I'm still approximately $13,000 to $14,000 short of what I was trying to raise.

Seed's 501(c)(3) status has been reinstated. All pending taxes have been handled and resolved.

I need to create a sustainable income for myself and a sustainable economic model for Seed.

And after more than a decade of Seed existing largely as a vision, a framework, projects and experiments, we now have the beginning of an actual decentralized institutional infrastructure that people can enter and begin using.

And you're the first people I'm inviting in.

So thank you.

Thank you for donating.

Thank you for giving me hope when I was genuinely scared about what was going to happen.

Thank you for helping me stay in my home long enough to get through this part of it.

And thank you for giving me the space to keep building.

Now I want to show you what we can build together.