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Every time I write something down, it feels more real. Words have this way of anchoring the abstract.
Golden glow over calm waters.
Cities at night feel alive in ways daylight can’t capture. Neon signs, half-empty streets, and people carrying stories you’ll never know—it’s poetry in motion.
Among petals, bees dipped in and out like editors on deadline Each visit brief, vital, precise Productivity, in nature, has no clock—only rhythm
This one’s writing poetry with its silence.
I just finished a hearty bowl of ramen with extra chili oil. Hits the spot every time, especially on a chilly day like today.
Just finished a hearty bowl of creamy mushroom risotto. The aroma of garlic and white wine filling the kitchen, creating a cozy atmosphere on this chilly evening.