The Last Key
I am in the energy of purging everything.
Really. Everything. Down to the core.
I have an insane amount of rage in my heart. For all the sadness and pain I had to endure.
And I finally understood that the cause of the pain is not not being understood.
I don’t care whether I make sense to others or not.
The real cause was being made to believe that I had to be understood.
That I couldn’t be happy as the crazy weirdo I actually am. That I somehow needed outside validation to be myself.
No, I don’t need any.
I don’t have to be understood. I don’t have to be liked or loved.
I just want to be myself.
And finally, I want this inner rage to be gone.
I am tired of being a volcano all the time.
Yes, I can destroy. Yes, I will destroy. Yes, I will destroy anything that gets in my way.
But at the end of the day, these hands and this mind were meant to create.
I have the ability to destroy because, yes, building something new and laying a new foundation sometimes requires destroying and cutting off everything that no longer serves me.
But at the same time, it is tiring.
Living with this inner rage for years.
Because this inner rage is one of the things that disconnects us from ourselves.
Cutting through that inner rage is what shows us where we really stand and who we really are.
That rage is made of all those false social expectations that constantly overrode my inner compass.
What is right? What is wrong?
Why the fuck have I been asking myself these questions over and over again in an endless loop, never giving myself the chance to let my rage out?
Why did I hold that rage back until I ended up destroying a fucking vacuum cleaner instead of letting it out when I was hurt, when it could have come out with so much less destruction?
Why were everyone else’s feelings more important than mine?
I should never have held onto this anger and rage to the point where I had to destroy things.
This baggage was never mine to carry.
But because barely anyone can take accountability, and there are barely any people I can have a civilized conversation with, I just kept holding it back.
Because when I am calm — they don’t care.
When I am a little angrier — they feel offended and play the victim.
When I am really angry — I am the one at fault.
Of course I carried this inner rage all the time when everyone kept running from what they had done.
But it should never have been mine to carry.
And because people won’t necessarily change or become better — like always, I have to find the solution within myself.
By realizing that my value was never and will never be affected by other people’s actions or stupidity.
I know who I am and what I am capable of. I am fucking vain enough to show them as well — to shove it right in their faces. But if they don’t believe it, that won’t make me any less than who I am.
I don’t need to prove myself to anyone.
My inner knowing is more than enough.
And if they fuck me over?
That wasn’t on me either.
It was their lack of capacity, lack of care, lack of whatever. They carry their own stupid baggage.
And knowing that most of them will never have the balls to face their own demons and insecurities is more than enough revenge — because they will remain stuck in the same loop.
So they will never grow.
I am putting down what was never meant to be mine.
The rage caused by injustices I should never have had to carry.
Because I really don’t care anymore.
Everybody lives with their own pain. I don’t need to do anything with it.
I need to focus on myself and what nurtures me. The people who are actually important. The things I enjoy, even if they don’t make sense to anyone else.
I am not saying that my rage will disappear from this moment on, but I won’t take on anyone else’s anymore.
Everybody has to carry their own baggage.
My hands and my mind were always meant to create — the world taught me to use them to destroy.
So I am getting back to myself.
And the same force I once used to destroy will become the foundation of what I create.