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❄️ The Season of Clarity
Read more: ❄️ The Season of ClarityHome Christmas and the New Year are no longer measured by rituals or expectations. They have become moments of pause-markers of having moved one year closer to understanding the world, and meaning itself, with greater clarity. Celebration shifts away from formal gatherings and expected signs of affection, toward something quieter and more internal. With time,…
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⚪️ Strength in the Absence of Comfort
Read more: ⚪️ Strength in the Absence of ComfortHome Life is not tidy. It is not a polished painting with perfect symmetry or a carefully arranged bouquet of only the finest blooms. Life is rough, uneven, beautiful, cruel, and magnificent all at once. It is an agglomeration of opposites: black and white, joy and sorrow, just and unjust, the beautiful and the ugly…
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💐 Whispering Roses
Read more: 💐 Whispering RosesHome In quiet bloom they lean, blush and gold, carrying a hush only longing knows. Soft petals hold the weight of distances unseen, of voices lost to the folds of time. Yellow glimmers like a sun that never sets, pink lingers like a sigh kept beneath the ribs— unspoken, yet burning. Even as they fade,…
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🧘 The Quiet Strength of Being Genuine
Read more: 🧘 The Quiet Strength of Being GenuineHome Authenticity doesn’t come with popularity. And that’s okay. In fact, it might be one of the clearest signs of emotional clarity — of living in alignment with your true self. I’m one of those people who doesn’t have many friends. For a long time, I wondered if that was a flaw. Was I too…
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🦋 Emerging From the Cocoon
Read more: 🦋 Emerging From the CocoonHome This morning began in a cloud of weight— a pressure so dense, I could barely breathe. But somewhere deep, a voice whispered: try again. I listened. A long silence on the line. Then—connection. A door opened, and what seemed impossible began to move. Later, as light settled back into my chest, I picked up…
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🌤️ The Soul of the Soul
Read more: 🌤️ The Soul of the SoulHome There are days when the sky feels too vast to be silent. When the wind brushes past like a whispered reminder — that none of this is random. I look up and see the clouds, soft and slow, shifting like thoughts in meditation. And somehow, they mirror something deep in me — a softness,…
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🏝️ Floating Islands of Emotion
Read more: 🏝️ Floating Islands of EmotionHome Some days, I feel like I am not one self — but many selves, scattered like torn pieces of felt adrift on a shifting sea. Each fragment holds a mood, a memory, a silence I never dared to speak aloud. I am a collection of floating islands, stitched together only by longing. Some islands…
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🍃 Where the Breeze Once Waited
Read more: 🍃 Where the Breeze Once WaitedHome Some silences are not empty. They carry the weight of what was almost spoken. A certain shadow lingers where light once paused — not to warm, but to remember. There are no names in this ache, only seasons that return without the one who once made them sing. Not sorrow, not longing — just…
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🚪 When Kindness Forgets to Knock
Read more: 🚪 When Kindness Forgets to KnockHome There’s a strange kind of silence that wraps itself around you — not the peaceful kind, but the kind that forgets to ask, “Are you sleeping at all these days?” “Is your homeland still burning?” It’s the silence of daily life continuing as if the world has not shifted, as if grief doesn’t live…
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✈️ Seat 11A and the Unspoken Miracles
Read more: ✈️ Seat 11A and the Unspoken MiraclesHome Today, a plane crashed in India. Over 240 lives vanished in an instant—except one. One man, one seat: 11A, next to the window. He lived. And no, I don’t want to debate the probabilities, the mechanics, the science, the fate. I don’t care to speculate whether he was lucky, shielded by physics, or caught…
Felt, Paint & Reflection 