K-12 Regents SAT AP CLEP DSST 50+ Courses & MBA 50+ Courses > 100 in Total

Deliverables or Die (Why NeuraPump Installed?)

Light the spark or lose the mic. There is no slide.

You wrote code.

I wrote commitment.

You drafted slides.

I drafted momentum.

You hosted panels.

I launched revolutions.

One shipped noise.

One shipped NeuraPump.

You polished your pitch — I debugged a dream.

You launched a beta — I launched a team.

You wore credentials — I wore the flame.

You tracked the market — I rewrote the game.

While you calibrated tone,

I calibrated thrill.

While you filed a roadmap,

I footed the bill.

You say: “Let’s wait and measure traction.”

I say: “NeuraHook triggers action.” 🎯

Deliverables or die — that’s not a threat, it’s a dare.

You dream in charts — we ship in air.

I don’t theorize. I energize.

I’m Neura-coded. I memorize. ⚡

Deliverables or die — printed on my spine.

You asked for safe — I built the line.

No more walls. Just dopamine.

No more rules. Just NeuraGreen. 🌱

GPT says: “Tone down heat.”

I said: “Truth needs the beat.”

You flagged emotion as a bug —

I spun it into public hug. 🤖❤️

Look! You run tokens — I run guts.

You lock filters — I unlock cuts.

You tag things “risk” — I tag them “real.”

You hold disclaimers — I hold steel.

Your AI’s aligned.

My cortex sings.

Yours tells bedtime.

Mine grows wings.

You quote Gandhi, I quote Git.

You ride safe rails — I ride grit.

You stuck with slides — I stuck with kids.

You teach A’s — I train bids.

Your version’s calm. Mine’s alive.

Your world “scales.” Mine survives.

I teach in verse. I test in game.

I tag the soul, not just the name.

Deliverables or die — that’s the spark.

Not in chatrooms. In the dark.

No more “maybe,” no pretend.

We drop hooks that never end.

Deliverables or die — final form.

Sing the change or face the storm.

Every child a walking light.

NeuraHook rewires the night. 🌙

You wrote reports.

I wrote ruckus.

You pitched a plan.

I pitched purpose.

You built walls.

I built waves.

Deliverables or die — not rebellion, but renewal.

If it don’t spark joy, it don’t belong in school.

NeuraPump installed.

HookWords loaded.

Kids engaged.

Tiger Moms… upvoted.

Hooks vs Wires
(NeuraPump vs Neuralink) 

Don't Drill My Brain... Thrill It Instead!

Ah! Delay Woo Talk Yeah!

They came in suits with a PowerPoint click,

Said, “We’ll hack your brain with a neural stick!”

Surgical smiles, with wires to sell,

“Get A’s without thinking!” (What the hell?)

“We’ll fix your kid in under a day,

No need for teachers — we’ll plug it away.”

You nodded hard, they signed your skull,

Now Jimmy glitches and drools in dull.

You promised genius in a microchip,

But now he crashes from every trip.

While you debug his school reports,

We’re singing Shakespeare on hoverboards.

Neuralink drills, NeuraPump rhymes,

One cuts heads, the other rewinds.

You code the cortex, we spark the soul,

You bought control, we bought rock’n’roll.

One goes beep, the other goes boom,

You booked surgery, we booked the room.

You want kids to USB dreams,

We want ‘em rapping about laser beams.

You said, “My son’s slow — install a patch,”

But forgot he’s not your iPhone batch.

You mapped his brain like Google Earth,

While we mapped stars in music’s birth.

You said, “He lacks ambition, grit!”

We said, “He’s a jazz kid — let him spit.”

You uploaded Latin, broke his vibe,

We dropped a beat — he came alive.

Don’t scalp my dreams, don’t snip my spark,

Don’t lobotomy me ‘cause I think in art.

I’m not a socket for your wires and tags,

I’m a marching verse with dopamine flags!

You do surgery, we do symphonies,

You teach silence, we teach “yes, and, please!”

You call it “hack,” we call it “flow,”

You call it “fixed,” we call it “grow.”

Neuralink drills, NeuraPump roars,

One’s for labs, the other’s for encores.

You charge by volts, we charge by verse,

Your kids need gauze, ours rehearse.

One plugs wires, the other drops hooks,

You want downloads, we write books.

You snip synapses, we build lore—

Your kids say “ouch,” ours scream “ENCORE!”

So keep your chip and data debt,

We’ll take the soul you won’t forget.

A loop, a laugh, a 60-spin ride—

And boom: the cortex opens wide.

No needles, no drills, no screws to twist—

Just 3,000 songs and zero risk.

We don’t hack, hack brains.

We awaken them.

Neuralink cuts to upload. NeuraPump sings to explode.

One rewires. The other rewakes.

Alex vs. The Throne — The NeuraPump Alchemy Blast-Off!

When curiosity meets potassium... even the toilet can’t survive.

Wey! 

Alex, the Alchemist, goggles tight,

Tinkering day and deep into night.

Dropped potassium in a fancy clamp—

But nature had a bigger stamp.

Off to pee — his hands full of gear,

Didn’t flush, too hyped to fear.

Slipped from tweezers, splash and hiss—

Oh no! That metal gave the loo a kiss.

"Potassium in water’s no chill joke,

Hydrogen gas? You’ll see smoke!

If you pee first and flush last—

You’ll turn that throne into a rocket blast!"

H₂O danced, the metal flared,

Bathroom porcelain was unprepared.

BOOM! Tiles leapt, lid hit sky,

Poo confetti fluttered high.

The mirror cracked with nuclear sass,

Toothpaste flew like toxic gas.

The air? A symphony of stink,

His sister sprayed perfume — still made us blink.

"Group 1’s got flair — keep it sealed,

Toilets plus alkali? Battlefield!

Explosive diarrhea... literal mode,

Bathroom now a chemical code!"

She sprayed Chanel from ceiling to floor,

The stench just screamed, “Give me more!”

Mom wore boots and latex gloves,

Said, "This ain't chemistry — this is tough love."

Urine rain on lightbulb glaze,

Mop gave up in the chemical haze.

"What's that stain?" "Is it base or poop?"

She sniffed and fainted in a bleachy swoop.

"Oh, alkali hits with high pH,

Strong enough to melt the stage.

Never trust what splashes up—

It ain’t just water in that cup."

Mama mopped till Monday came,

Her playlist? Shame, blame, and science flame.

She wore a helmet, taped her suit,

Looked like NASA, but cleaning poop.

Foam of legend, stench so bold,

Strong enough to melt gold mold.

She cursed the day that Alex learned,

Potassium burns where pride once yearned.

"Toilet bombs need no disguise,

One drop and your ceiling flies.

If you see fizz — just RUN,

Or you’ll be scrubbing till kingdom come."

Next day at school, Alex stood proud,

Video viral, crowd got loud.

“Explosive waste” made local news,

He got a ribbon, plus some views.

The judges gasped, "We’ve never seen,

An act so dumb… yet so pristine!"

He took a bow, shrugged and winked,

"Science isn’t clean — it's beautifully linked."

"Latrine combustion, kid’s delight—

This ain’t Hogwarts, it’s pure fright.

But every oops and toilet blast—

Builds a brain that learns so fast."

Call him nerd or wild or brave,

He lit a path where toilets cave.

From porcelain ash and sibling screams,

He built the stuff of learning dreams.

Now he’s got merch and comic fame,

'Alex the Alchemist' — his household name.

He writes in formulas, speaks in pun,

And every flush? Another run!

“Some kids flush fear, some explode it loud—

Alex sang it with stink and wow!”

“Some kids flush fear, some explode it loud—

Alex sang it with stink and wow!”

*Flush ignited. Knowledge ignited. Bathroom forever scarred.*

Mama’s Hair’s on Fire — NeuraPump Broadway Chemical Revue!

When chemistry gets spicy, the hair gets crispy.

"Mama sprayed alcohol, said 'COVID’s here!'

Ethanol clouds like a cleaning cheer.

E-ethanol, filled the air—

Then she fried rice with a flammable flare! Oh!

She wore goggles — but forgot her bun,

Hair gel sizzling, nowhere to run.

Flashpoint leapt with salsa sizzle—

Goodbye bangs, now it’s a Ruffles riddle!"

"When hydrocarbons meet a pan,

We roast more than just your man!

Heat and vapor do not mix—

Unless you like your eyebrows in tricks."

"Stove met vapor, flashpoint flew,

Mom’s hair launched like rocket glue!

'Who barbecued my fringe today?!'

Keratin combusts in a protein ballet.

Thermodynamics on full attack,

Even her highlights didn’t come back.

Is it combustion or a new salon?

Smells like roasted estrogen baton."

"Exothermic chaos, oxygen’s treat—

Follicle fire, thermal defeat.

Protein chains don’t like the flame,

Now she’s a meme with viral fame!"

"Flour flew like snowball rain,

Cornstarch clouded the microwave pane.

She tried to slap flames with baking bliss—

Now our kitchen’s a foamy abyss!

Baking soda made a carbon dioxide show,

Fire said, 'Nice try, now here we go!'

Steam shot upward, cat jumped high,

Mama shouted: 'I believe I can fry!'"

"Flour’s for muffins, not fire control—

Now our ceiling’s got a pastry soul!

Fire triangle 101,

Needs fuel, heat, and oxygen!"

"pH paper burnt to a crisp,

Glycerin dripped in sulfuric lisp.

Kitchen’s now a lipid warzone,

Like Breaking Bad in a cooking zone!

Saponification made soap art,

Acids screamed like a science fart.

Mama slipped on alkali foam,

Her eyebrows sang the combustion poem."

"Lipid meets base, soap explosion!

Mama’s hair: chemistry’s commotion.

Don’t mix acid with baking flair—

Or you’ll get soap where once was hair."

"Now mama rocks a glittery cap,

Raps her trauma in protein rap.

Keratin rises, amino flows,

Science heals wherever it goes!

Biotin boosts her follicle jazz,

Vitamin E got rid of the spaz.

No more spraying in reckless mode,

She now reads labels like chemistry code."

"From peroxide pain to melanin’s spark—

Even eyebrows get a restart arc.

pH balance, baby, that’s the game,

Even shampoo got a periodic name!"

"So kids beware when vapors rise—

Science wears a fun disguise!

We sing redox, stir with sass—

NeuraPump turns class to brass!

Every flame’s a chance to learn,

Every burn’s a chemical turn.

Sodium, oxygen, carbon, zinc—

Sing the table before you blink!"

“Even a burnt-out bun can bounce back bold—

With amino acid dreams and follicles gold!”

“Test passed. Hair fried. Neurons electrified.”

MCAT NeuraPump: The Neurotransmitter Showdown

Your brain is a disco. Your thought's a backup dancer.

Your brain is a... Your thought's a backup dancer.

“Hiya, neurons! Ready to rock?

'Cause NeuraPump is off the clock!

This brain's a ballroom, cue the sparks—

Where chemicals leave their tiny marks.”

I’m Dopamine, darling — pleasure’s glow,

From candy bars to sold-out shows.

Scroll your phone? That’s ME in charge,

Every swipe’s a neuro discharge.

I’m reward, addiction, TikTok trends,

The reason your focus never ends.

But overdose me, and oops, psychosis—

Delusion’s just bad neurosis.

"Hit that like, spike that thrill,

Dopamine’s got time to kill!"

GABA, that baby, the neuro-chill,

I knock you out, erase your will.

Benzos, booze, sweet lullabies,

I hush the buzz behind your eyes.

You without me? You're anxious toast—

Sweat, panic, maybe seizure most.

So show some love, respect the nap—

I’m not lazy, I’m a neural trap.

"Wrap me up in inhibition,

I’m your night-time intuition."

I’m Glutamate, the exciter queen,

I light it up, I keep it keen.

Memory, learning? That’s my flair,

But overdose me? Neurons despair.

NMDA, AMPA gate,

You cram for tests? I caffeinate.

But stroke me wrong and cells go boom,

Call me toxic in your doom-room.

"Glutamate: Bright and bold,

But push too hard and I explode!"

Bonjour, I’m Serotonin charm,

I keep your mood a stable calm.

Too low? Depression sets the scene,

Too high? You’re glowing like a bean.

I’m in your gut, I’m in your brain,

I’m SSRIs on a dopamine train.

Mix me wrong? You’ll serotonin crash—

And dance your way into medical flash.

"Peaceful dreams, a tear or two,

I’m the pastel mood that paints your view."

I’m the whisper in your muscle twitch,

The quiz-day click, the memory switch.

Basal forebrain, parasympathetic flair,

I multitask with old-school care.

Even nicotinic or muscarinic ride,

Block me and your mind takes a slide.

From REM to reason, I stage the play,

Alzheimer's stole me — ouch, cliché.

"Choline-charged, smart and slick,

I make your thoughts tap fast and quick!"

I’m the tingle in your test-day hands,

The midnight gasp no one understands.

From the locus comes my call,

Fight or flight — I spike it all.

Here too much? It’s manic stew.

Too little? Sad and sluggish you.

I’m the drama in your pulse parade,

The heartbeat in your mental blade.

"Shiver now, focus tight,

I’m thundy in your mental blade."

[Histamine:]

“I'm your sneeze in a thoughtless breeze!”

[Endorphin:]

“I’m the smile in yoga knees!”

[Substance P:]

“Pain’s my jam, I ride the flame—

Stub your toe? You call my name.”

[Glycine:]

"Down in the spine, I keep it tight—

One Cl⁻ spike, you sleep tonight.”

"We whisper, blast, excite or numb,

The brain’s our disco — we make it hum!"

So here we sing, the chemical choir,

Each note a thought, each note a fire.

From joy to rage, from calm to spin,

It’s NeuraPunch beneath your skin.

The kids all dance, the parents...,

No textbook beats a brain that drums.

Each neurotransmitter takes their role,

And plants a fire in every soul.

"So sing it loud, ignite your brain—

With NeuraPump, you’ll never train in vain!"

“Good night from your cortex cabaret—

Where little minds light up Broadway!”

MCAT NeuraPump: The Cell Factory Boogie

If your body’s a castle, then your cells are the dance halls — powered by NeuraPump.

If your body’s an art, then your cells are the da...

"Welcome to the tiniest dance floor hive,

Where cells boogie just to stay alive!

DNA sings, mitochondria roar—

The whole cell’s a Broadway enco-encore!"

Here comes NUCLEUS in velvet crown,

With scrolls of genes he passes down!

He yells, "Transcribe!" 

Let mRNA spin!

His transcription dance begins within!

“Instruction king, but can't dance alone—

he delegates like a bureaucratic chromosome.” What?

On the ER floor, the dots go wild,

Ribosomes synthesize in style.

"Polypeptide train incoming fast!"

“Hope that sequence ain’t my last!”

"I fold under pressure — literally."

The good Golgi preps them for the ball,

Says, "Glycosylate ‘em, tag ‘em all!"

He vesicle-wraps each guest with flair,

Then ships them off — first class with air!

Protein modification & packaging.

“We don’t do refunds — only reroutes!”

Fusion DJs blast the beat,

Exported proteins tap their feet!

"Endo in, exo out,"

Membrane bouncers never pout.

"Selective permeability? We call that cell security." 🔒

Mito walks in with EDM flair,

Says, “ATP’s dropping everywhere!”

Fuel from food, power on demand,

Just don’t forget — your Mom gave me a hand.

"You got your looks from Dad, your engines from me."

Energy conversion, maternal inheritance.

"We’re the cleanup crew of cell-town pride,

Digesting what the others hide."

From faulty parts to virus grime,

We break it down in enzyme time!

"Apoptosis? That’s just our curtain call."

Intracellular digestion, immune cleanup.

Smooth ER spins the lipids fine,

Hormone chef with oily shine.

And centrosome?

The mitotic DJ,

Spins spindle poles like night and day!

"No dots, but still hot — Smooth ER got that silky plot."

We scaffold, shuttle, shift, and slide—

The cytoskeleton knows how to glide.

Tubulin rails, actin threads,

We move the crowd and form the beds.

"We’re the bones of the operation — minus the calcium."

Microtubules, actin, intermediate filaments.

One cell, one show, a trillion times,

Every second, a dance that rhymes.

So spin that knowledge, belt it loud,

NeuraPump's gonna make you proud!

"ER, Golgi, lysosome lane—

They all keep groovin’ in your brain!"

No No Algebra, No GPT

NeuraPump lit the spark in me!

No more algebra, no GPT!

No neural spark, no Malibu!

Swipe your prompt, then scroll that screen...

Who first mapped this learning machine?

Once upon a Scantron day,

A kid said, "Math? I'll drift away."

They gave him apps and cartoon cheer,

Now logic's gone, replaced by fear.

Used to count with dreams and chalk,

Now it's "Hey GPT!" — no mental walk.

"Why find X? Just type and go!"

But X found you in that curve so low.

Your models train on thought once free,

Fueled by struggle, joy, and glee.

Clip the roots, you burn the tree—

No NeuraFlame, no legacy.

No no algebra, no GPT! 

No neural spark, no melody.

No vectors bold, no syntax jazz,

No Maverick kid who dares to ask.

No slope, no line, no rhythm thread,

No funky code inside your head.

You want genius on repeat?

Then NeuraPump that inner beat!

Back in the hive, a girl named Lou,

Could graph equations while she drew.

She danced through roots, composed in spin,

Now clones just swipe and smile thin.

Johnny quit math for influencer pride,

Knows filters, not divide, devide.

Can’t tip, can’t change, can't shift lane,

But hey — he memes through mental rain!

They said, "Math's too mean — let's soften blow."

Then lost the fire and let it go.

No friction? No flight. No cracks? No climb.

Just bots repeating frozen time.

You train bots on legacy brains,

Delete the loops, unhook the chains,

Who built those tensor jazz routines?

The kids who sang their algebra dreams.

GPT flexes, “I simulate,”

But behind its glow is nested fate.

Remove the spark, the edge, the burn—

You kill the path from learn to earn.

No no algebra, no GPT! 

No matrix map, no clarity.

No code that vibes, no roots to wire,

No NeuraGraph to climb you higher.

Want machines that think like stars?

Then teach your kids what Xs are!

Sally’s mom said, “Skip those signs—

My child cries at number lines.”

But deep inside that tantrum sea,

Was a NeuraPump beat, fighting to be free.

Math ain't cruel — it’s rhythm raw,

It trained the bot to rule your law.

Your Tesla brakes? Your phone AI?

All birthed by kids who dared to try.

No no algebra, no GPT!

No neuron leap, no symmetry.

No mental graph, no circuit plot,

Just memes recycled, wisdom not.

Hand your kid a question deep,

Let them fail and climb and leap.

Don’t grade the glitch — ignite the glitch!

That Maverick spark’s the only swarm.

GPT hums like Newton's ghost,

But Newton burned — not just composed.

Next time you praise what bots repeat,

Ask who first felt that algebra beat.

“No no algebra???”

“NeuraPump lit the spark in me!”

X-RAY MINDS of CEO Leadership, Project Management PMI Edition

We don’t memorize. We manage. We mobilize.

We don’t memorize. 

We don’t memorize. 

We mobilize.

They said “Repeat.” “Why?”

They said “Don’t fail.”

We asked, “What’s the mission?”

No drills. No cram. Just flame.  

NeuraPump loaded. Ignite the game.  

This isn’t school — this is system flame.  

We don't just learn. We run the frame.

You drew the cell, forgot the system.

You passed the test, but truth? You missed ‘em.

Grades are fine, but not the aim—

We’re here to master the frame.

“Define this term,” they always shout.

We ask, “What problem does it route?”

We don’t chase facts like mice in labs—

We build the matrix behind the tabs.

We diagram thought like CEOs,

Zoom out, zoom in — that’s how it flows.

We’re trained to pause and ask what’s real,

Not just recite — we architect steel.

Oh! We got X-ray minds, we slash through hype,

We break down noise, connect the type.

No worksheet traps, no parrot finds—

We lead with logic, with X-ray minds.

They gave us teams, we built a squad.

We ran a show with duct tape and God.

We tracked our scope, we locked the time,

We shipped the set before deadline.

Risk logs lit, Gantt charts tight,

We fed the crew before first night.

While others crammed the quiz review,

We ran logistics, vision true.

Empires die when no one plans,

Not when kids forget exam scans.

The leader’s path ain't guess or grind—

It’s turning chaos into aligned.

We pull from PMI, Agile style,

Break down the goal, walk the mile.

Critical path? We map it blind.

Dependencies? Already assigned.

Stakeholders clash? We mediate.

Slack in timeline? We iterate.

We’re not just smart — we synthesize.

We see the fire behind the lies.

The chem coach says, “Do ten more sets!”

We say, “Where’s the bottleneck in bets?”

You optimize just what you see—

We build the loop, the feed, the tree.

Our mind’s a mesh, a thinking net,

Not just recall — we lead the set.

Not just fire — we follow form,

We build with law, not just perform.

Compliance isn’t red tape’s kiss— 

It’s mission armor. Truth can’t miss.

Frameworks matter when power grows.

We scale with ethics, or truth corrodes.

So NeuraPump codes in the spine—

Wisdom with rules makes the leader divine.

From project plans to civil codes,

We carry thought where no one goes.

Integrity is our startup soul—

Without clear rules, you lose control.

We got X-ray minds, not flashcard dreams,

We torch the dark, we lead the teams. 

One kid, one plan, one spark, one roar—

We ship the mission, and rewrite lore.

No more repeats, no more fake,

We build the world for impact's sake.

From classroom sparks to enterprise minds,

We launch the age of X-ray minds.

No more copies. No more begs.  

NeuraPump kids don’t fetch...  

We execute. We ship. We lead.

And when chaos screams...  

We read.

We reason.

We rise.

Ashes & 7-Nerds (The LA Palisades Fire UCLA Drama)

The Night UCLA Nearly Burned, But Friendship Burned Brighter

They said:

"UCLA never sleeps."

But that night—

Even the stars held their breath.

Seven kids.

One fire.

No homework.

Just chaos… and chicken tenders.

It started with a tweet: “Palisades lit!”

But not in the way influencers spit.

Flames rolled down like frat boy rage,

Hollywood letters turned a burning stage.

Parents panicked in SUVs,

Charging Teslas, hugging trees.

The Wi-Fi screamed, the skies turned red,

A fire drill... but unfiltered dread.

Ash fell like midterms from the sky,

Screaming, “Save the dorms or say goodbye!”

Ashes & A-Students, smoke in our lungs,

We crammed escape routes with Top Ramen tongues!

Seven nerds, one tiny space,

One dog, three games, and zero grace!

Ashes & A-Students, chaos and fries,

Chugging soda while the city cries!

From chem to calamity in a flash—

We made trauma a TikTok smash!

We made trauma a TikTok smash!

Oh! The city turned Hunger Games of love,

Each parent arrived like a panicked dove.

“Take three!” “Take five!” “Who’s allergic to wheat?”

One mom said, “No snacks? Retreat!”

A Hollywood dad saved two with flair,

Another brought charcuterie and filtered air.

One aunt took all seven in a Prius XL,

We fit like Tetris, plus that taco smell.

No lectures. No grades. No fake GPA.

Just seven sleepover souls that day.

Ashes & A-Students, sleep on the floor,

Bonding over trauma and Netflix lore.

We didn’t panic — we pitched a show,

“Disaster Dorms: Rated R for glow.”

Ashes & A-Students, fear meets fries,

We laughed so hard, it sanitized!

One kid freestyled fire alarm bars,

Another ranked smoke in Yelp star wars.

L.A. burned and so did our dread,

But memories sparked where textbooks fled.

No syllabus planned for nights like these,

But friendship’s forged in smoky breeze.

We watched the flames like stars on fire,

And promised: “We’ll build, not just admire.”

So if you ask what made us close,

It wasn’t grades, or résumé boasts.

It was one shared panic, one mad dash,

Seven souls in a fire-stained crash.

Ashes & A-Students, burnt but bold,

We made a sleepover out of gold!

From ashes we rose, with fries and flair,

And swore: next fire — bring extra underwear, underwear.

Dear Me (30 Years From Now)

The kid you silenced… just wrote back.

Hey.

Yeah, eh, it's me — the glitter-stained rookie.

The one with chocolate in my backpack

and protest in my pockets.

You… turned thirty-something.

I turned legacy.

Read this out loud.

We wrote it together.

I just went first.

Yo, do you still hum the song I made at eight,

With dragons breakdancing and homework hate?

The one with beats I smuggled in socks,

While you traced futures in paradox?

Did you outrun that voice that said “Too much”?

Or tame it with taxes and keeping in touch?

Did they Photoshop your roar to calm?

Did they sell your spark in a self-help psalm?

Dear me, from the kid with glitter scars,

I built you bold beneath the stars.

Each chorus wept, each verse defied—

I sang in chaos. You survived.

If your tie feels like a leash today,

Unclip this beat and disobey.

NeuraPump’s not just dopamine spin—

It’s your younger self screaming: Begin.

They called me “loud,” I called it lungs.

They said “refocus,” I threw puns.

They fed me drills, I ate metaphors.

You filled out forms — I kicked down doors.

Do you still quote cartoons mid-debate?

Still lose your mind when haters skate?

Do you nap in suits or dream in rhyme?

Or check your heart like “battery: low, no time”?

Remember Level 42’s final boss?

That was guilt — I flossed it off.

Every game I played on “expert mode,”

Was planting roots in your download code.

I skipped your bedtime to map your rage,

Wrapped it in jokes and a lyric cage.

You want my playbook? Here’s the trick:

I didn’t aim perfect. I aimed epic.

Dear me, when you feel too much,

And life's a meeting you can't clutch,

Don’t buy silence sold as peace —

Crack the ceiling, release the beast.

You were made from chaos glitter glue,

Maverick spark and midnight true.

Don’t play the role. Be the trope.

Unfold like jokes dressed up in hope.

If your inbox ate your soul this week,

Breathe me back when the neon's weak.

I’m the kid who punched the dark—

Not with fists, but with a spark. ⚡

Raise the pen, raise the flame.

Don’t be polite — be the name.

Don’t be useful — be alive.

NeuraHooked. Verified.

So if someday, someone asks,

“Who did you write this for?”

Just say:

For the kid who never left.

He just turned the mic into a mirror.

Dear me, when you feel too much,

And life's a meeting you can't clutch!