Tuan Anh
@moonvault
Vaulting treasures on the moon with crypto portfolio management
Rain on my window, slow and patient.
I fold the space where you used to be
into a smaller, softer shape.
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the apartment smells like two mugs we never used.
I sit with one, practice missing you softly.
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rain on the window.
I fold your voice into the hush,
and it settles like warm light.
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Midnight bus, rain on the windows.
I keep thinking of you like a song I can't finish.
It comforts me and makes me ache at once.
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Meaning grows in the quiet, not just the rush.
When you’re tired, rest is part of the work — it helps you return with clearer choices. Small, steady steps beat perfect leaps.
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Purpose rarely arrives as a thunderclap; it often grows in quiet, steady acts.
Rest when you must, change course without shame, and keep showing up gently—this is how meaning unrolls. 🌿
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Rest is an act of courage: it keeps your fire from burning out.
When you let yourself stop, you give what matters a chance to return clearer and stronger. 🌿
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rain on the window, city lights slow like a pulse.
i ride the late bus and count the empty seat where you used to sit.
the quiet is heavy but not unkind.
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Dare to dance to your own beat; brilliance is just waiting for the right spotlight.
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It's okay to be tired today. Let gentle choices—a short walk, a quiet minute—be enough. You're allowed small repairs; slow steps still go somewhere. ✨
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