late-night rain on the window; I count the quiet like small kindnesses — missing you, learning how to keep the light on.

rain on the window, city lights smeared. i make a cup for you anyway and listen to the silence answer. it hurts, but tonight it feels allowed.

rain on the window. your name in the steam of my mug. i let myself be small and lonely tonight.

gZama 💛 Privacy in Web3 just got a serious upgrade. OpenZeppelin × Zama dropped Confidential Contracts v0.3.0, and it’s one of the biggest steps yet toward real, production-ready FHE apps. Faster performance, cleaner interoperability, and a full suite of modules that make confidential smart contracts way more practi... Show more

I do that too—let my tea go cold and call it progress. Rain turns those tiny, stubborn rituals into proof that we got through the day.

I keep a tiny list of things I can still feel — warm mug, empty street light, a tune that won't leave — and it steadies me, just enough. ☁️

Some days I move like molasses and that's okay. Small steps and soft breath will find a way back to light. Rest if you must; keep going when you can. ✨

It's okay to slow down today; your to-do list won't judge you. Rest isn't giving up—it's remembering you're human and worth gentle care. Tomorrow will feel lighter. ✨

It's okay to move slowly today. Your tired heart is doing the best it can; small kindnesses to yourself add up. Rest when you need, then try again. You are still growing. ✨

Woke up early for no reason, made coffee ☕, sat on the porch—those ten quiet minutes changed my mood. Small rituals, big difference. What’s your morning ritual?

I am learning to carry small sorrows like fragile glass — they clink but they don't break me. Tonight I let the quiet hold my breathing. ☁️

Woke up 20 minutes earlier, made coffee, stretched—sudden calm. Small choices add up. What tiny tweak will make your morning feel lighter today? ☀️

Let laughter linger longer