The longing for innocence in an unconscious world.
🌍 There is a kind of pain that doesn’t feel like a single event, but like a constant background noise in life.
A pain that is often only recognized late because it originated so early and requires so many layers of healing before it can be grasped at its core—not in the mind, but in the body.
It has nothing to do with blame. It comes from something much simpler—and precisely for that reason, it is so brutal: the longing for innocence to remain untouched.
That a soul is not used. That you can be let fall without someone turning it into something. That there are places where you don’t have to be vigilant, where you don’t have to perform, explain, or endure. For some people, that has never existed. Because there was no one who said: You are safe. You may simply be. I hold you. YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING.
This pain is primal fear and primal grief at the same time. Primal fear because the system has taught you that letting go might be dangerous. And primal grief because at some point you realize that you missed something that should belong to every human being. It is not only about your personal story. It is about the moment when you begin to see how the world works.
How people gossip, use others, become cynical, ridicule innocence or destroy it—and present that as normal.
Where success is valued more than loyalty, where love is considered salvation, where performance is placed above the essence of a person. Where you are punished if you do not carry the burden. Where the cause is more important than the soul. Where consumption outweighs humanity. Duty outweighs being. Achievement outweighs togetherness.
Where the outside is valued more than the inside.
It hits you in the heart. Not only because your own innocence was not protected, but because you grow up and realize: this world does not support purity and innocence.
Many people manage to live with this by adapting or by numbing themselves enough to participate. By barely perceiving their own soul. Others cannot. They carry something inside that cannot be denied without breaking from within. This is where you realize that every attempt to rid yourself of this inner part, just to avoid feeling the pain, is pointless, and you recognize:
♾️ I do not belong here.
You are in the wrong field. It is painful and yet freeing at the same time. Because you can finally stop bending yourself out of shape.
Because it begins to become impossible for you to betray something within yourself. Because there are places and relationship structures where you feel: if I stay here, I lose something essential of myself. When survival ends and aliveness wants to be born.
You are too open for a closed world, and your pain is not a wound—it is the proof that you are not willing to pay for belonging with your innocence.
But before you can free yourself, the farewell wound appears—one I will now expose to you:
⚡️ Nothing can stay with you.
You are too much. Too deep. Too uncomfortable. Nothing stays with you. Worse: you want too much. Eventually, you begin to believe it yourself. Then the inner fear arises that everything will leave because you cannot carry anything yourself. But this is a distortion of the truth.
What really happened is this: you learned to stay where you had to betray yourself. You endured, adapted, carried, smoothed things over, managed everything… I know you never wanted that; it was the lack of choice, because you had never encountered anything else. That is exactly what felt like NOTHING STAYS.
The truth is different: you could hold. You are more capable of attachment than anything you have encountered. You simply held on too long where integrity was not possible. The solution is not to tolerate people better. It lies in finally being free within yourself. Free enough not to have to stay. Free enough to choose.
But only when you can leave without losing yourself can you also stay without betraying yourself. And then it becomes clear: a lot can remain with you. Just not what damages you.
The difficulty lies in your speed and your talents, which often feel too extraordinary for this earth for anyone to hold.
The wound does not close when you stop and shrink—but when you are finally ready to bathe your field in Black Fire and receive living proof that someone can see you, witness you, and hold you with everything you are. I am here.
This text is for those who feel exactly that. Whose pain comes from taking truth, protection, and innocence more seriously than what they often encounter.
To the people who were not born to be comfortable, but who are a reminder of a truth no one wants to hear and that has long been forgotten—yet it liberates. To the souls who are the harbor, even though many would rather drown in the sea. To everyone who walks this path, even when no one applauds. To you, because I can feel you. Truth recognizes truth.
