You know what terrifies me? The fact that one day, without the slightest warning, something can simply cease to exist just because it lost meaning and weight to someone.



Sometimes the things I scrawl on paper make no sense – to you, nor to me. But that’s the thing about writing. It doesn’t need logic. It is a way of feeling, of freezing, of putting raw and jumbled feelings and unfiltered internal turmoil into words, into something tangible. No masks, no pretense. Completely human, wholly vulnerable. And somehow, by writing, you get to open a small window, releasing a piece of the weight that hangs heavy on the mind. The thoughts that had skipped wildly inside you like frenzied pebbles on waters will find their calm, and sometimes, that’s exactly what you need, even for just a moment.


Eyes shut.

Are you aware? Breathe. The balmy air seeping through lungs. Listen. Rubber crunching against gravel. Feel. The buzz of the city tingling through the hairs of your arm. Eyes open. Are you aware? You exist in this second only once. So exist. Exist wholly and embrace all that’s around you with every fiber of your being. Together, you are the elements that make up the story of today.

Now shut eyes.

Open eyes.
Are you aware?
Are you really aware?