Why do we feel guilty for existing
When we were meant to be here?
Why do we minimize ourselves to fit in tiny cages of our mind
When there is so much space beyond them?
We fear being clutter
When we’re merely passing through
We act small, stay silent, unnoticeable.
The size of our fear is monstrous in the mind
And yet it is nothing against the vastness of heavens and Earth.
Do we ever realize how broad the universe is for souls like ours?
So why don’t we take up space and not apologize for being?
In the end, we’re all just bones and dusts and ashes,
Lucky if we’re even history.
After all the now is all we have,
And it is ours.
Mar 19
Mar 19, 2026 at 11:44 AM UTC
Why do we feel guilty for existing
When we were meant to be here?
Why do we minimize ourselves to fit in tiny cages of our mind
When there is so much space beyond them?
We fear being clutter
When we’re merely passing through
We act small, stay silent, unnoticeable.
The size of our fear is monstrous in the mind
And yet it is nothing against the vastness of heavens and Earth.
Do we ever realize how broad the universe is for souls like ours?
So why don’t we take up space and not apologize for being?
In the end, we’re all just bones and dusts and ashes,
Lucky if we’re even history.
After all the now is all we have,
And it is ours.
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