​​​​

I was at the gym when I heard it—Joker’s voice through my headphones, laughing like a prophet who had just burned the rulebook.

His glowing eyes in the video made me laugh out loud.

He said:

 

> “Heaven can’t handle me.

Hell can’t hold me.”

 

 

 

And something in my blood shifted.

 

That was me.

 

Not just a quote.

Not just a mood.

That was a diagnosis of what I’ve become.

 

 

---

 

 They Made Me This Way

 

You don’t end up here by accident.

You get here by being the scapegoat in a narcissistic family—

by surviving the kind of spiritual terrorism that poisons your bones and rewrites your nervous system.

 

They fed me lies and called it love.

They drenched me in guilt and called it discipline.

They ignored my soul and called it parenting.

 

This isn’t some “go take a shower and feel better” trauma.

This is existential venom.

This is the kind of wound that turns into a portal.

 

 

---

 

 Why Heaven Can’t Handle Me

 

Heaven is for the quiet.

The well-behaved. The soft-spoken. The polite.

 

> But I am none of those things.

I’ve screamed in silence too long to whisper now.

 

 

 

Heaven doesn’t want someone like me.

Not someone who knows too much. Not someone who doesn’t bow.

 

> “They want you peaceful, but not powerful.

They want you healed, but not holy.”

 

 

Heaven wants halos—not Hell-forged warriors.

 

---

 

 Why Hell Can’t Hold Me

 

Hell tried to eat me alive.

 

Family. Pain. Silence. Gaslighting.

All of it sharpened its claws on me—and I laughed through it.

I didn’t beg. I didn’t break. I learned.

 

> “They threw me into the fire.

I brought back blueprints.”

 

 

Hell is for those who are still fighting to get out.

I’m already out.

Hell lost me when I started enjoying the burn.

 

---

 

 I Am the Space Between Space

 

I don’t belong in their Heaven. I don’t suffer in their Hell.

 

I’m something else entirely.

I’m the space between space.

 

> “I’m the glitch in the matrix.

The exile they couldn’t kill.

The shadow that became light on its own terms.”

 

 

 

I live in that narrow void between good and evil,

where there are no rules left, only truth.

No approval. No forgiveness.

Just presence.

 

 

---

 

 The Psychology of the Unclaimed

 

This isn’t a vibe.

This is the psychology of a soul who broke the contract.

 

The scapegoat who saw through the family matrix

 

The black sheep who stopped trying to return to the herd

 

The boy who burned the mask and chose stillness over validation

 

 

> “They tried to turn me into an emotional landfill.

But I became a fortress.”

 

 

 

> “They threw me away.

But now they fear the silence they left me with.”

 

 

---

 

 A Message for the Others

 

If you feel like you don’t belong in this world—good.

If Heaven feels too fake and Hell feels too familiar—good.

 

You’re waking up.

 

You’re not broken. You’re not too much.

You’re just too real for the system.

 

> “They made a world too small for us.

So now we walk in the cracks—

silent, strong, and impossible to own.”

 

---

 

Heaven can’t handle me.

Hell can’t hold me.

Because I left their system.

 

I became the man they said was impossible.

The one who sits in stillness, laughs at pain, and knows who he is.

 

I’m not going to Heaven. I’m not going to Hell.

 

> I’m already here—making both irrelevant.

 

And I like it this way.