@goldyday.base.eth

I T A P I met the sea at the end of a long, pale pier. The railings traced straight lines, like a quiet path for my thoughts to follow. Ahead, two lighthouses stood watch, one white and one dark, holding the horizon in place. The air smelled faintly of salt, and the wind felt crisp against my face. My heavy steps slowed, as if the distance itself was asking for patience. The water glittered in the cold light, turning even my sad thoughts into a tiny yes.

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