I thought I’d feel better by now. I sit here trying to use music as a time machine. I am listening to the steady hum of "Lovely" by Billie Eilish, trying to summon the ghost of the woman who inhabited my skin when I first heard these notes. How do I recapture her? That lively, unafraid version of myself? Why does the woman sitting here now feel so broken, so paralyzed? It pains me to look back at that season. The memories feel visceral. So close I could touch them, yet comple

A raw reflection on our human craving for certainty, the quiet ache of not knowing, and the search for peace in surrender.

There is a silence that follows certain moments in life. Not peace, not calm, but something closer to suspension. The kind of stillness that hums like power lines after a storm. You sit inside it and realize how loud your thoughts actually are. I have spent months caught between the person I used to be and whoever I am becoming. Between duty and desire, between what looks steady from the outside and what trembles underneath. Some mornings I wake up certain I am moving forward