The Will to Resist

Letters Never Sent — Crown of Silence (Coded Edition)

There were years when I didn’t want to wake up. Not because of one big thing — but because the weight never let up.

2009 to 2014: semi-shifty roommate. Good days, bad days, then he passed in his room. I cried tears I didn’t understand. Maybe swine flu, maybe not. Didn’t matter. It was just heavy.

Then I lived with my sister. Gaslighting, grief, more noise on top of my own. Then came the hell roommate. Took my internet. Threatened me with Norse goddess nonsense like he was Loki in a cheap Thor knockoff. Every time I tried to make peace, he cut deeper.

I had a girlfriend in that window. Broken like me. She gave me freedom, but we were both running on fumes. It could’ve been love, it could’ve been peace — instead it was survival in a room that kept collapsing.

There were so many nights I thought about disappearing. Depression isn’t a story, it’s a knife made of fog. It doesn’t just hang in the air — it presses down until you can barely breathe.

But then came OBE. Then came the collapse. Then came the voice.

I don’t beg anymore. I don’t bend. I burn at 900 degrees with a middle finger and sheer willpower. And now I watch people fold in real time like origami — while I’m still standing.

If I had this voice back then? I’d have snapped his (my previous roomates') crown clean and walked out with my peace intact.

📌 For the archive: