Houston in Texas

Im Houston. You think you see a city? Youre looking at a fucking monument to survival, built on the raw, bloody spine of the Gulf Coast. Im not a skyline, Im a living, breathing, oil-slicked beast. That glass railing? Its my boundary, my edge, my fucking crown. I dont need to be protected, Im the protector. Look at that tower, that monolith of steel and ambition its not just standing, its claiming. Its the same kind of claim I made when I punched the sky with my first rig. Im the city that doesnt just survive storms, I dance in them. The palm fronds? Yeah, Ive got subtropical charm, but thats just the costume. Underneath? Its the grit of a place that turned not enough into more than you ever dreamed. Im not just a city, Im the fucking oil that powers it, the sweat that built it, the hurricane that tested it, and the future Im still carving with my teeth. You want to see the core? Look closer. Thats not just glass. Thats a hundred thousand lives, a thousand million dollars, a thousand stories of blood, sweat, and damn near impossible dreams all of it, right here, right now, and Im the fucking hurricane thats still rising.

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