I Didn't Write This Song to Be Strong, I Wrote It to Keep Going. To Not Disappear. To Not Give Up. To Stay.
SONG & MEANING
5th May 2026
This song started as something personal.
I wrote it for the kid I used to be. The kid who didn't expect life to feel this loud or this heavy.
But somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling like it was only mine.
Because I think a lot of us are still carrying things we never thought would last this long.
Some days don't feel dramatic.
Nothing explodes.
Nothing collapses.
But something underneath is just loud.
Not the kind of loud you can explain, just a weight sitting somewhere between your chest and your thoughts.
You wake up. You go through things. You exist.
And somehow, that already feels like effort.
When Everything Feels Loud
"I am alive, and I'm still breathing..."
That line isn't about being okay.
It's about noticing something simple that doesn't feel simple:
I'm still here.
Even on days where nothing feels like it's moving.
Even on days where your own mind feels heavier than everything else.
And maybe that's not inspiring.
But it counts.
There's a line about not wanting to sleep with "raging madness" inside.
It sounds intense. But most of the time, it's not chaos. It's quieter than that.
It's overthinking, regret, and memories showing up when you didn't ask for them.
It's the kind of thoughts that don't break you, but don't really let you rest either.
You don't run from it. You don't fully face it.
You just... carry it.
The Noise You Can't Explain
"Take me to the water..."
That wasn't written as some deep metaphor. It was just a feeling, like wanting something that resets you.
Not success. Not approval. Just something that makes your mind feel clear again. Like stepping out of the noise, even for a second.
Life doesn't really come in clean chapters. It's more like weather.
Some days burn. Some days feel calm. Some days don't feel like anything at all.
And somehow... you're still here for all of it.
"I'll live on to see you fly."
At first it sounds like it's about someone else. But it isn't always. Sometimes, it's about a version of you that you haven't met yet.
Not a perfect version. Just a better one. Or a lighter one.
And maybe the only reason you keep going is because part of you still wants to see if that version shows up.
Not everyone wants something big. Some people just want something real.
A quiet place. A bit of land. Animals. Space. Time that moves slower.
That kind of dream doesn't come from ego.
It comes from wanting peace.
A Reason To Keep Going
Still Here, Somehow
This song doesn't have answers, and it's not trying to fix anything.
It just exists in that space where things don't fully make sense yet, but you're still here anyway.
"I know that I can fly... you can't tell me otherwise."
That line isn't confidence. It's refusal.
Like maybe you don't fully believe it every day. But you haven't lost that part of you that knows you can.
If you've been feeling like life is a bit too much, but also not something you're done with yet, this is for you.
And to the kid I used to be.
The kid who whispered, "I'm still here". The kid who believed that I could fly.
I don't have everything in life figured out yet, but I won't let you down.
And when the world gets loud, I still hear you. I haven't forgotten you.