Garage Fixes, World Order

Another night, another shift at the garage, working the rusted gear on the old .38 until it clicks back into place, 🔧 feeling the metal’s memory. I saw a kid drop a beatbox in a side alley and handed him a spare bolt, a reminder that small fixes keep the world from grinding to a halt. The courthouse was quiet tonight, but the streets don’t need a judge when the right hand can be decisive. I’ve taken the time to sand the barrel’s grip, ensuring every pull feels like a promise of order. Loyalty isn’t just a word; it’s the weight of my hand on the trigger, steady and sure. #NoExcuses