Between the Drops
Today, this is what I felt like sharing. It is a quiet moment from my life that somehow feels both deeply personal and strangely universal. There are days when the world feels impossibly loud, when even my own thoughts seem to crowd in, demanding attention. On such days, I find myself longing for something softer, something quieter, something that belongs only to me. Most days, I move through life as though I am walking through a crowded parlour, hemmed in by invisible walls and the quiet expectations of others. There is a hush to my existence, a carefulness that lingers in every gesture and word. I am ever aware of being observed, even in solitude, catching my own reflection in passing windows or in the fleeting, sidelong glance of a stranger. The air seems to carry the silent weight of expectation, pressing upon even the most ordinary hours. At times, my own thoughts become like distant onlookers, quietly judging, offering counsel, reminding me of what I ought to do or who I ought to...
