dustanddivinity

[dustanddivinity]

why i dream of something more

sometimes i think i was born in the wrong realm.

not just the wrong time, not just the wrong place—

but the wrong pattern of reality altogether.

the way people chase things that mean nothing to me.

the way everything feels hollow unless i breathe new meaning into it myself.

the rules. the roles. the way you’re supposed to fold yourself into what already is.

i’ve tried. gods, i’ve tried.

but the more i bend, the more i vanish.

and i’m not ready to be gone.

i want to build something that holds me.

not the version of me they pity.

not the version they try to "fix."

but the wild, aching, luminous one they never saw coming.

the one who knows there’s more.

i don’t want to be understood by this world.

i want to grow a new one.

one that feels like home.

one where the strange are sacred.

where symbols are language.

where softness isn’t weakness.

and where longing isn’t shameful—it’s a compass.

this isn’t escapism.

this is a reclamation of reality.

this blog is my altar.

a quiet place to whisper the things the world refuses to hear.

a place to honor the visions, the ache, the divinity buried in the dust.

if you’ve ever felt like a misfit god in a world that only worships sameness—

then maybe, just maybe, this space is for you too.