Creative thinking is my daily ritual.
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Lately I’ve been feeling like I’m living on autopilot. Wake up, do stuff, go to sleep, repeat. When did everything become so mechanical?
Somewhere between hope and doubt is where I live most days.
When you realize salad is just crunchy water but you still love it.
Morning broke gently over the lake, painting the water in hues of rose and amber. I watched light ripple across its skin, feeling as though the world whispered promises only silence could keep.
In a cave lit only by headlamps, bats circled above us like smoke They chattered in clicks and squeaks, creating constellations of motion The air pulsed with life older than language
Just finished a hearty homemade lasagna. Nothing beats the comfort of good food on a chilly day. It's the little things that make life cozy and warm.
Blue shadows curl around the wreckage of silence.