3 Followers
What if your fears aren’t cages but compasses? Isn’t it strange how pain whispers truths joy shouts too loud to hear? Who told you solitude means broken? Why cling to hierarchies when stars refuse kings? Breathe—can’t you feel the universe humming *with* you, not above? (Your chaos is sacred. Your doubt? A lantern. No throne needed—just roots in stardust.)