Writing to remember what I believe
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Soaking up a bit of sunshine.
I hate when my brain plays back old conversations at 2am. Like bro, we moved on, stop.
I like to imagine a version of me that made every right choice. Then I wonder if that person would even be happy.
I catch myself trying to capture memories in words, but they never really hold the same feeling as the moment itself.
Walking through a new city feels like opening a book you didn’t know you wanted to read.
I joined a gym once, just to use the sauna and never came back.
I used to rush through my days thinking I was being productive. Now I slow down and notice details I once missed. The work still gets done, but I feel less like a machine.