They say history is written by the victors. Today, it is written by those who endure.
I am no soldier. Not yet. Five years too young to carry a blade. So I carry buckets instead. Muddy water, dragged across blood soaked ground to fighters who have not eaten, who have not slept, who still refuse to fall.
This is what this war is.
We split stale bread and call it enough. We bind wounds with torn cloth and hope it holds.
They feast. They drink sweet wine. They tax the ground beneath our feet and call it order.
This is David against Goliath, but David is starving.
Still, we stand.
But will alone does not win wars.
I cannot fight. Not yet. But you can help those who do.
And understand this, your tips are not allegiance. You are not choosing a side. You are buying a ticket, a front row seat to the absolute cinema unfolding before us.
Every coin feeds a soldier, binds a wound, holds the line a little longer.
Watch closely.
Because even the smallest stone can still bring down a giant.
*All tips will be donated to war efforts