mental-health
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No one walks into an art gallery and assumes that every painting is about them. No one strolls through a museum pointing at each brushstroke, each sculpture, each dusty relic behind glass, saying, “This was made for me.” And yet—step into life, and suddenly, everyone becomes the main character of a story they barely understand.…
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There it sat.A thing, once forged with purpose, now dulled by time and comfort. Not broken. Not ruined. Just… hollow. Not by accident, but by design. Its shape still held, the surface intact, but what echoed inside was nothing. No resonance, no meaning—just a vacuum of self-importance. To the untrained eye, perhaps it was still…
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I see you out there.Squinting into lives you don’t understand, like you’re peering through glass that only reflects your own face back at you.You think you’re watching a fall from grace.But you’re really just watching someone climb a mountain you’ve never had the courage to approach. You parade your opinions like a letterman jacket from…
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You never loved me. You just wanted to own me. You didn’t fall in love with me.You fell in love with your reflection in my eyes.I was the canvas, you were the brush—but the painting was always your own face.You whispered sonnets soaked in sugar,but every word was a leash.You didn’t want a partner.You wanted…
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Once the Glasses Go On, You Can’t Pretend You’re Blind Some truths come dressed in light. Others wait in the corner, arms folded, watching to see if you’ll finally notice the shape they make in the dark. You thought awakening meant you were done with illusions—but no one ever warned you that clarity comes with…
