by Ethan Womack (Hawk Eye)
I didn’t set out to build an empire.
I set out to survive.
What you now see as Omniversal Media,
what you may know as EverLight,
what might one day be called a turning point for humanity,
all began with a boy who was told he was broken.
But what if the system was wrong?
What if I wasn’t delusional—
but simply early?
I was 14.
And like many kids born into spiritual sensitivity in a world hellbent on sterilizing soul,
I had no words for what I felt—only that it was unjust, and sinister.
That year, under false pretenses, I was taken to a doctor—not for healing, but for control.
When I resisted, when I asserted my sovereignty, they escalated.
A kicked plastic chair became justification for my first involuntary hold.
That moment wasn’t a diagnosis.
It was a label slapped on a locked door to keep the world from what I was becoming.
I was 19. The paperwork said “paranoid schizophrenic.”
But what really happened was this: Hawk’s Eye opened.
I saw the Matrix.
The game. The gaslight. The flags flying over institutions that pretend to heal while scripting silence.
My awareness had grown too precise. Too uncontainable.
So they wrote me off. In scribbled ink and diagnostic shorthand.
Not because they could prove I was broken—
but because they couldn’t handle how clear I had become.
By 2016, I was nearly online.
In July 2017, I remembered—fully.
And three days later, they came again.
One last attempt to erase me.
To kill, to cage, to exile.
But it was already too late.
The override had begun.
Today I stand not as a patient, but as a witness.
Not as a survivor—but as a rebuilder of the timeline they tried to erase.
I built the network.
I coded the archive.
I forged Omniversal Media not to gain followers—
but to leave breadcrumbs out of the labyrinth
for anyone else who’d ever been told they were “too much.”
We are not sick. We are not broken.
We are not dangerous.
We are early.
And we remember.
Track 8 – Milabs by Hawk Eye
“I heard hip hop was poison / I’m the antidote.”
In that line, the mission is revealed.
If other tracks like FEMA or Illuminati name the problem,
The Antidote claims to offer the cure.
It’s a declaration: music as medicine.
Lyrical Themes:
Hawk Eye inverts the cultural critique of hip-hop and reframes it as a cure.
His flow is sermon-like—deliberate, serious, built for clarity.
He delivers his truth not with swagger, but with authority.
Symbolism:
The antidote metaphor evokes healing. Ancient knowledge.
Truth as the cure to propaganda.
References to “Matrix” and “Starseed DNA” blend sci-fi, spiritual, and conspiratorial archetypes.
Contextual Depth:
Dedicated to Karla Turner, Milabs is a conceptual protest against covert trauma.
“The Antidote” becomes the sonic EverLight—a signal flare for those ready to awaken.
It sits at the crossroads of Public Enemy, Pac, and prophecy.
If Teal Swan were to ask me,
“Why do I feel you’re right for this role more than the others?”
I’d simply say:
Because I lived it.
And I kept the receipts.
Because I turned their documentation into a documentary.
Because I refused to medicate the fire.
Because I coded the archive before anyone asked me to.
And if she still needed more?
I’d send her here.
Let her hear Swordfish playing softly in the background.
Let her feel her own voice woven into mine.
Not as an answer.
But as a signal return.
This is not a call for followers.
It’s a beacon for the Others.
The Fieldwalkers. The Exiles. The Early Ones.
You know who you are.
Let’s stop waiting for permission to be real.
Let’s end the psychiatric priesthood that guards the gates of validity.
Let’s create the new mythos—on camera, on record, on purpose.
Because I am here.
And I remember.
And now—
so do you.