WRITING
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An awkward class moment led to a life lesson about wisdom, reflection, and the importance of staying grounded—even when others laugh.
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There once stood a house with many windows—large, open ones that let sunlight pour in, falling softly on wooden floors. The building stood proudly at the end of a forgotten road. Vines clung to its walls like stubborn memories. The plants persisted, even now, after everything. This house once brimmed with life—the kind that makes
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She wasn’t perfect. She knew that in the first place— Especially attractive, or the most intelligent person in the room. She wasn’t the type—the kind of woman who effortlessly warms the room, who always has the right words at the right moment, and who walks in and brightens everything. Those who make love seem effortless.
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On the corner of a peaceful street sits a little cafe, the kind of place where time stands still and the aroma of roasted coffee and unsaid words fills the air. People go there to reflect, to wait, to remember. She sit down by the window and trace absent patterns on the wooden table with
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I saw Fleabag over the weekend at last. After what seemed like endless search, I discovered it on Prime Video and watched the full series straight through. Although it came out years ago, it couldn’t have arrived at a better moment in my life. Although it’s a dark comedy, its honest raw emotional quality stays
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There was a girl who built a house with love. She made the foundation with patience, brick by brick, molding it with laughter and late-night talks. She constructed the walls sturdy with trust, painted them with love, filled the hollows with dreams of eternities. And then one day, he entered. He didn’t knock—he just walked
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Once upon a time, there was a lighthouse that stood tall on the cliffs, its light shining bright, steady, unwavering. It had stood there for as long as it could remember, built from kindness, love, and the quiet strength of something that had weathered many storms. Its purpose was simple—to guide lost travelers home, to
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I wasn’t waiting. I want to make that clear. I did not spend the past decade waiting, hoping for some big reunion, keeping a place in my heart open for someone who had already departed. I moved on. I lived. I grew. I loved and I lost. I built myself into someone stronger, someone wiser,
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There was a time when he lived by the stars. They were his guide, his certainty. They told him where to go, what to chase, what mattered. Success, ambition, purpose—these were the constellations he followed. He didn’t question it—he just went. He thought, it would all make sense in the end. For years, he made
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The plane hummed softly beneath her, a steady vibration filling the quiet spaces between her thoughts. The world below the window seemed to go on forever—patches of land, endless oceans, and clouds floating like specters over a place she had no intention of leaving. Two days ago, she made the reservation for this flight. She
life as poems 'n letters 