Start of this year, or end of last year, I was talking to my friends and family. Told them—nah, prophesied—that 2025 was gonna be the year of the fall. The fall of influencers. The fake ones. The ones selling you a dream while living a lie. The ones preaching success but drowning in debt. The ones flexing lifestyles they ain’t earned, selling courses they ain’t lived, manipulating minds for clicks and engagement.

And now, day by day, I’m watching it happen. The facade is cracking. Every morning, another influencer exposed, another scheme unraveling, another fake guru getting humbled by reality. It’s like watching a domino effect, one fraud after another tumbling to the ground. I saw this coming. I spoke on this. And I don’t care if you’re a fashion vlogger, a fitness hustler, or even one of these so-called Christian influencers—you ain’t safe either. Matter fact, y’all are the worst. The wolves in sheep’s clothing, the ones who got people believing they need your words more than they need God. The ones turning faith into a brand, spirituality into a hustle, and salvation into a product to be sold.

Miss me with all that.

I’d rather sit down with a real one. Somebody who’s actually been through some things. Somebody who’s faced the fire, got burned, and came out wiser. I’d rather hear from a friend who’s struggled and survived than some clout-chasing content creator with a microphone and an ego. And honestly, I’d rather just grab a book, sit at home, and learn it for myself. No edits. No filters. No agenda. Just truth, raw and unpolished, the way it was meant to be.

This is me now, man. 2025 gave me a glimpse. A peek behind the curtain. And what I saw? It ain’t pretty, but it’s necessary. The fall is coming. Some of y’all still sleep. Some of y’all still following the blind, hanging on every word of people who wouldn’t recognize the truth if it slapped them in the face. But me? I’m wide awake. Watching. Learning. Moving different.

You should too.