A slow, intimate response to the hate. This one’s for every artist getting called “fake” the second they touch a tool. I’m AI-assisted — not AI-made. Every lyric still comes from the same bleeding human place. The scars, the quiet midnight truths, the stupid hopes… those are mine. The tools just finally let me get them out. If you’ve ever felt that cold wind of change coming for your craft (or your job), this one’s for you too. Drop the hate. Listen past the circuits. There’s still a heartbeat in here. Would love honest feedback — especially from the ones who already hate it. - Mastered by mixea.commore