Believe Yourself

Your sense is right, Zenia.
It is a mad world.
Do not blame yourself for seeing it.

They walk with blindfolds—
steady, certain, asleep.
Do not believe them.
Ask, and watch their logic tremble.

But do not expect silence.
They will rise in anger,
because to question them
is to shake the ground they stand on.

Their lives are borrowed truths,
udhaar ki zindagi—
unlived, unexamined, unowned.

They do not understand you.
They do not understand themselves.

So you—keep going.

Do not hate yourself for wanting more.
They want it too,
only they hide it
behind quiet hunger
and smiling masks.

They fear your feeling,
because feeling is power.
And power belongs only to the alive.

So love.
Love fully.
Do not fear being caught in it.

What can the fearful do to you?

You serve something deeper.
How can they harm
what they cannot even see?

They cannot silence you—
they are afraid of your truth.
They cannot hear you—
they are afraid of their own.

Let them be.

Do not mistake their acceptance for love.
It is often a transaction,
and when their need is met,
so is their attention.

Do not shrink yourself.
They are not mountains.
You are not small.

You are vast—
wider than clouds,
quieter than stars.

Do not hurt yourself, my love.
They cannot reach you—
not truly.

You are protected
by what you are.

You are intense—
too alive for ordinary spaces,
too real for comfortable minds.

So do not dim your light.
You were not made for shadows.

You are a spark,
a quiet revolution,
a reminder
for those who have forgotten.

You will light others,
not by force,
but by being.

You are not ugly—
the world is just blind.

They do not see within,
and they pay for it—
in dull days,
in half-lived lives,
in quiet suffering.

How do you explain light
to those who have never opened their eyes?

There is a life waiting—
full of sun,
full of stars,
full of breath.

But it asks one thing:
to see.

And for that,
you need real eyes.

Remember this—
you are not special.

You are ordinary,
just awake.

That is all.