june 5, 2025
the quiet within is louder than the noise of the world. i move slowly, like twilight spilling into an empty room. soft grief, soft joy — both are holy.
“even shadows need somewhere safe to rest.”
june 5, 2025
the quiet within is louder than the noise of the world. i move slowly, like twilight spilling into an empty room. soft grief, soft joy — both are holy.
“even shadows need somewhere safe to rest.”
june 6, 2025
i felt like fog today — barely here, but somehow clinging to everything. my thoughts moved like moths, slow and aimless, chasing a light i couldn’t see.
“you are allowed to be unfinished and still holy.”
june 3, 2025
i lit a candle for the parts of me no one celebrates. the ones that ache quietly and still show up. i think that’s bravery — not loud, but lunar.
“some healing happens in the hush between breakdowns.”
may 28, 2025
i forgot how to speak kindly to myself again. everything i touched today felt heavier than usual, like memory had weight. i let the wind carry what i couldn’t.
“even wilted things deserve to be held.”
may 21, 2025
i saw a crow today and felt oddly seen. it looked at me like it knew something i’d forgotten. maybe i did. maybe i still do.
“sometimes the dark is just a place to grow unnoticed.”
june 2, 2025
tonight i didn't speak. just listened to the rain whisper through the leaves like it was remembering something. i felt understood.
“in silence, i find my shape again.”