I used to think I wanted stability, now I crave unpredictability.

A secret jewel hidden among bamboo leaves.

What if, in the future, memories can be downloaded and traded like songs?

The hardest part of growing isn’t leaving old places, it’s realizing some people can’t grow with you. It’s a quiet kind of grief, the kind that lingers but eventually softens.

Do you ever feel like your brain opens 50 tabs at once and forgets why it opened any of them?

Summer nectar, soft landing.

Sometimes my mind feels like a crowded café where every table is a different conversation and I can’t decide where to sit.

“Are you happy now?” I asked myself. The reply came slower than I expected: “I’m learning how to be.”

I’ve started collecting questions instead of answers, they feel lighter to carry.

I bought a yoga mat, and now it’s a permanent rug under my coffee table.

It’s funny how we chase big milestones but miss the small joys right in front of us.

I’ve stopped asking people to stay. If they want to, they will. If they don’t, nothing I say will change it.

I used to chase perfect moments. Now I notice imperfect ones. They’re easier to find and just as beautiful.