Let me just say it: I’m pissed 😡.
Not the cute, “had-a-bad-day” kind. I’m talking existential fury, the soul-grinding kind that gnaws at the edges of your sanity.
I have tried, really tried, to keep my footing amid this swirling chaos we call civilization. But lately, it feels like every ounce of peace I build gets sucker-punched by the world’s relentless madness.
I light candles🕯, I meditate✨, I whisper mantras to the sky💫… and within minutes, someone somewhere throws a metaphorical wrench into the gearwork of my sanity.
Who is doing this? Who is f**king with my heaven on earth?
I mean, is loving humanity supposed to feel like dragging a broken heart across a minefield? Because that’s where we live now!- on this beautiful blue rock we call home, where paradox thrives and peace is a fleeting tease. I’m sick of watching compassion get castrated by greed. Sick of being told that my spiritual growth depends on experiencing or witnessing pain and suffering. Sick of pretending I don’t notice that we’re all quietly self-destructing under the glitter of irrational self-loathing, wealth, and power.
💥 We Were Never Meant to Sleep Through This
I didn’t ask to feel this much. But I do, and it burns through my bones like truth searing itself into memory. I wanted peace. Not polished serenity. Not curated calm sold in wellness boxes. I wanted that gut-deep, soul-rooted kind of peace, the kind that wraps my spine, stitches my broken dreams back together, and leaves room for joy to live alongside experience.
Instead, we got systems that weaponize outreach while starving entire communities of resources. We got empty campaigns meant to soothe us while quietly erasing protections for people, families, and disabled citizens. We got executive orders fired off like bullets, aimed at dissent, compassion, and every whisper of resistance. We got streets turned into battlegrounds, where our federal agents storm public spaces like parks, schools, transit stations, dragging our friends, neighbors, and other innocent people into vans with brutal force, to cash out on despair. At the same time, bystanders sob and scream through the bars of silence, powerless to intervene.
They call it governance. I call it spiritual violence.
🌌 Where the Cosmic Debate Begins
Some say transcendence lives inside us, that we build heaven on earth through self-mastery, through perspective, through surrender.
Well then, who the f**k forgot to program souls like mine with the ability to dream a reality that doesn’t just serve one, but all? Who programmed these systems, where feeling too much is punished, and visionaries are sidelined because they dare to believe love should be loud, justice should be intimate, and peace should be public?
Who decided that pain is a prerequisite to progress? That I must be scarred by experience just to earn a voice that trembles with truth?
Who’s out there—somewhere—restricting our frequency, hijacking our energy, and siphoning it away from the blueprint of a better world?
This is me calling them out.
🛑 Enough With the Pretty Lies
I’m done subscribing to spiritual Pinterest boards where transcendence is just a well-lit meditation corner. I want transcendence with teeth. I want a truth that howls. I want a heaven built on healing that includes protest, grief, raw laughter, and messy birth.
Because enlightenment isn’t a destination, it’s an uprising of self-respect. It’s a refusal to abandon your intuition when the world tries to silence it. It’s crying in public when another soul is dragged into the shadows, and shouting until someone turns around.
🧨 No More Begging for Belonging
I’m not here to be palatable.
I’m here to remind you that sensitivity is a strength the system fears. That compassion is a form of warfare when the powerful profit from detachment. That dreaming of a better world isn’t naïve! It’s rebellious. And building heaven on earth isn’t a fantasy—it’s a demand.
So if this version of reality feels jagged to you too, if you’re tired of spiritual gaslighting and emotional sedation, step closer - This message is for you ⤵️.
🔥 The Final Cry
We didn’t come here to survive in silence.
We came to scream in color.
To paint protest into every sunrise and refuse to dim our brilliance for systems that feed on fear.
We weren’t born to fit into frameworks that choke.
We were born to dismantle them, with love as my wrecking ball and truth as my roar.
So let this be a reckoning.
A message to every faceless force siphoning our energy:
We see you. We feel the weight of your cruelty.
But we also feel the weight of our own becoming—and it’s heavier, louder, unstoppable.
We are the ones who build without permission.
Who grieve loud and heal wild.
Who believe that heaven isn’t inherited—it’s handmade in the fire of refusal.
You can f**k with our heaven on earth all you want.
You can try to hijack it, gatekeep it, or distort it.
But you’ll never own it.
Because we are still building it.
Brick by messy, glorious brick.
Through sleepless nights and untamed dreams.
Through rage that feels holy and kindness that feels rebellious.
Through vision that refuses to die.
This is the revolution of souls that remember.
Of hearts that won’t be numbed.
Of empaths who finally stopped apologizing for feeling everything too deeply.
We’re here.
We’re loud.
And we’re not doing it quietly 🌟