At least once in our lives, we all find ourselves in the middle of delirium, daggers throwing at us on the left and right, the target is clear. You belong here, too. You are compelling of bearing every one one of them, though you will not know until the moment comes that you must catch one by one in the speed of light, not to pierce you straight in the chest, but in your stomach, trying to protect your heart and defend your mind; you will stand alone, but you will know what you’re doing. Among shades of gray that remain motionless, you will learn how to stand in your light, alone, moving away from the gray in the middle. Gray doesn’t own you. It never did. These daggers are for you, but they only come from one place, the place of someone else’s self-pity. So let it rain, let it drop on your parade. You will stand wet under everything that falls above you, with a smile on your face. You will stay unchanged version of yourself told by the language of someone who has never known you, yet, manages to rise like the wrong pillar on a story told as a myth, with their hands up, passing rumors on scraped lips, telling them from ear to ear, only to make the stories real. You will feel pity, maybe even feel the need to justify unfulfilled heads, but people are like a hydra, after you cut one head, the next one grows up immediately, opening its mouth to show another tongue piled with dirty lies. And, that greyness that takes you down isn’t a bad sign, it just shows you in what place to seek peace in the palette of your colors, in your parts, mercy in the chaos you never asked, and you will calm yourself in the storm you have always been. You will dig your pain yourself out of the mud they pushed you into, you will hold the pieces you created yourself, from the roots, with your hands and throw away those that weren’t yours to carry. There will always be people who paint you with colors that don’t suit you, and that’s fine. May they carry the weight of these colors in their conscience while you stay true to yours. You, with all your beautiful colors, your mosaic of truth, with a heart made up of everything you think isn’t, with your unwavering devotion, be a masterpiece. A masterpiece that never tries to defend its colors in front of anyone who never saw the pain in your pieces of art, but just heard about it and couldn’t wait to break it in shades of gray. Save the gray for rainy days and try to shine as always. Never apologize for a version of yourself written by someone else. The only thing you can do is be yourself and remember, no one can tear your world up from your core and break it into pieces unless you forget that you are the only masterpiece on your parade.