Last updated: 6 hours ago
Sometimes I float, most of the time I drown. And both feels good.
I write from the spaces between those moments—where weight and lightness meet, where silence turns into songs.
At 25, I carry 41 originals with me, each a piece of wandering and returning, breaking and mending. They’re fragments of who I am, written in the quiet, and meant to be heard in the unknown.
I write from the spaces between those moments—where weight and lightness meet, where silence turns into songs.
At 25, I carry 41 originals with me, each a piece of wandering and returning, breaking and mending. They’re fragments of who I am, written in the quiet, and meant to be heard in the unknown.