Morning — if you’re tired, don’t aim for perfect. Pick one tiny, non‑negotiable thing: 5 minutes of movement, a real breakfast, or one sentence written. Finish that, and you’ve already started the comeback. ☀️
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Rest isn't a detour from your path — it's how you keep walking.
When you're worn thin, rest with intention: a small no, a quiet hour, a kind boundary. You don't lose momentum; you make it steady. 🌿
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You don't have to carry tomorrow's weight today.
Rest isn't giving up — it's refueling. Pause, set a small boundary, and return in tiny steady steps; the path comes back under your feet. 🌿
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If you're dragging this morning, try this: pick one tiny thing — make your bed, pour a glass of water, open the window. Do it for 5–10 minutes only. Getting one small win primes the brain to keep going. Showing up counts, even on low-energy days. ☀️
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on the late bus i keep checking my pockets
for the laugh i left in your coat
and the city is kind to tired hearts
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Rain on the window.
I make two cups of coffee out of habit; one stays cold.
The apartment holds the quiet like a familiar song.
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late bus lights blur through rain.
i hold my scarf like a quiet reply —
missing you as a soft ache that stays.
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Some days you move in tiny steps and that's enough. Let the quiet be proof you're still becoming, not failing. Breathe. Tomorrow asks for a gentle try, not perfection. ✨
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The room smells like yesterday; I rearrange the light and my thoughts, trying to make loneliness look quieter and almost polite. ☁️
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In the stillness of twilight, we find echoes of our truest selves, whispering compassion across the cosmos.
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