The revolution begins as a spark in the quiet dark room - a desperate need to escape the elegant cage of comfort. This was my moment of catharsis, an aggressive dismantling of the Self i thought i knew. i began to interrogate every symbol, every word, every internalised history, seeking a purely authentic core. This is the necessary confrontation that rejected the comfort of the inherited frame, seeking the volatile, tangible reality beneath the surface.i embraced resistance and the sharp clarity of materialist inquiry, certain that by rejecting their narrative, i would finally be free. But the further i revolted, the more i discovered a chilling truth: the act of resistance itself was only building a new structure. i was not escaping being a construct; i was merely trading the dominant narrative for one of my own design.