Tag journal
Weaver of river tears. Your emotions cleanse the paths of those who dared not feel.
The one who became one with the earth. Your roots dance with the winds of the past.
Some days we blossom — wide open to the sun, radiant and fearless.
Some days we fall inward — closing our petals, shedding layers, returning to the silent root.
There once was a Body.
It had no name. No age.
It was perfect — built of atoms, structures, cells.
But inside… it was empty.
🌿 Today, I asked myself — not from the mind, but from the soul: What do I truly need right now to feel alive?(Not what I “should” do. Not what I “must” do. But what truly nourishes me from within?)… Continue Reading →
This home wasn’t built of bricks.
It was woven from the memory of the soul.
From moments that never found words, so they hid—deep in the body, in the breath, in the gaze.