What if every rule they fed you, every expectation they wrapped around your throat like a silk noose, was never meant to fit you?
What if the polished, perfected version of you, the one they applaud, the one they approve of, is the very thing suffocating your wild, untamed essence?
What if the voice you’ve been told to silence, the one that roars in your chest at night, the one that feels too raw, too much, too dangerous,is actually the most sacred part of you?
And what if breaking free doesn’t look like some peaceful awakening, but like destruction? Like setting fire to every borrowed belief, every conditioned reflex, every lie that told you to be less?
What if the real rebellion isn’t loud or violent, but the quiet, unwavering choice to hear yourself again,to remember the sound of your own soul, even when the world tells you to ignore it?
And what if, in the end, it was never about becoming anything at all,just about unbecoming everything you were never meant to be?
The truth. The rawness. The unfiltered wild expression of who you’ve always been.
And I remembered… the divine essence doesn’t seek to be adored.
It seeks to be felt . To be embodied. To be spoken through.
It is the source of the creation itself.
And creation moves through you, through your words, your being, your movement your art.