For the freedom of my country, I will set my own soul ablaze. I shall not stop fighting. For it is my solemn duty, my journey, my strength, and my life. I shall put Life before death. Strength before weakness. Journey before destination. I will be the voice of the voiceless. And if one day I fall silent, I hope my pen breaks, my voice cracks, and as I draw in my last breath of life, I will go to my destination. There, I will embrace Death like hugging an old friend I haven't seen in ages and tell him the story of how I fought the fight of love for life, and triumphed.

And what are we now?

Watching the the Cyrus the Great II gathering in Toronto on YouTube. From inside Iran, through filtered screens and VPNs, lit a fire of unyielding hope in my chest. When the Crown Prince spoke, he did not sound like a man kept from his homeland for nearly half a century. He spoke with the exact heartbeat of our streets as if one of us had stepped out of the smoke and grabbed the microphone. Every single word was ours. His body language carried absolute certainty. He knows what we feel on the ground: the fall of this evil occupying cartel is imminent & Odium shall smile upon this regime soon. #JavidShah

Some still claim it is impossible for this terrorist regime to slaughter over 50,000 people in just two nights. Watch this video. Listen to the relentless hail of gunfire. Watch massive crowds standing under live ammunition, and look directly at the uncountable corpses stacked in the aftermath. Now understand this: this nightmare wasn't happening in a vacuum. It was executed simultaneously across every city, in a nation of 90 million people, beneath the dark cover of a total blackout. Unless you actively profit from the tyranny of this occupying cartel, the math is written in blood. Look at the bodies. Hear the guns. The truth is right in front of you stop looking away. #IranMassacre

In January, right through the slaughter, our youth stepped into the dark, raised the Lion & Sun flag, and roared JAVID SHAH. Like it or not, that is the unyielding truth of Iranians inside this country. We announced it to the world and paid for it with fire & screams under a blackout, Signed and sealed with our blood. #IranMassacre

September 21, 2022. Day three of the fire after Mahsa Amini’s murder. Before the revisionists tried to dilute our rage, the streets of Iran roared with absolute clarity: “An Iran without a Shah has no order.” From the very beginning, our people knew what was stolen and what must be reclaimed. They didn't just scream against the chaos of an occupying cartel—they demanded the restoration of our nation's law, pride, and soul. Make no mistake. This is the final battle.

They love to repeat the same comfortable lie: "Support for the Pahlavis only exists in the diaspora." Then look at this image. Ashrafi Esfahani Expressway, Tehran. January 8. In the middle of a brutal uprising, beneath the very sight of an occupying cartel, someone stepped out into the night to hang four words across the capital: WE WANT THE SHAH. And when those of us fighting from inside Iran speak out, the smug outsiders immediately pivot: "Prove you are really there." It is a neat, dishonest little trap. We hide our faces because identification means the gallows. We hide our names because telling the truth gets our families destroyed. We operate behind VPNs because a panicking regime cut our internet to hide a massacre. And then you take the very mask we must wear to survive, and use it to pretend we do not exist. No one works this hard to deny reality unless they actively benefit from the lie. You demanded evidence from inside Iran. There it is. Hanging over the asphalt of Tehran.

This needs to end....

You want to know what it actually feels like to live inside Iran right now? It is the dark, unyielding reality of an entire generation holding onto its sanity by a thread. My circle consists of the educated, middle-upper class, and even we are drowning. We are trapped, watching our best years bleed away in a desperate struggle just to survive tomorrow. We live in constant dread of the next blackout, the next stolen month, the next economic execution. It is no longer just sorrow. It is something far deeper. It is the horror of watching a life crumble, struggling to grab hold of it, only to feel hope turn to stringy sinew and blood beneath your fingers as everything collapses anyway. It is the haze and smoke in your chest when you have been broken so many times that you wish you could cry, simply to prove you are still alive. Instead, you feel nothing. You feel already dead. And then comes the guilt. The sickening weight of being completely powerless while the people you love are stripped of their joy, their futures, sometimes even themselves. You find yourself pleading into the dark: Take me instead. Break me instead. Why them? I am running out of arguments. I am running out of hope to inject into the people around me. There are only so many times you can tell someone, Hold on. Things will change, before you begin to hear how hollow your own voice sounds. People outside Iran keep asking: “Why don’t you rise up?” The answer lays in January... I was there. A bullet missed me by an inch. I watched my compatriots die. I watched the streets of my own hometown drown in their blood. So when I tell you what another uprising means for people walking into the streets empty-handed, I am not imagining it. I know exactly what it means. That is what outsiders miss when they mistake exhaustion for surrender. We are overwhelmed. Economic collapse. Blackouts. Arrests. Executions. Conflicting news. The constant shadow of a war that seems to begin, stop, disappear, then return before anyone has even processed the last disaster. And hanging over all of it is January. People remember the blood. They remember what it cost to step outside. But pressure does not disappear because people are exhausted. It accumulates. Every stolen year. Every ruined business. Every friend who leaves. Every family that breaks. Every execution. Every lie. Another layer. Iran right now feels like a sealed room with the pressure still rising. And this bubble is getting very close to bursting. When it does, it'll burn the whole god damn regime down to ashes i am sure of it.