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If you don’t work hard
you never earn

If you don’t make mistakes
you never learn

If you don’t fuel that fire
you never burn

If you don’t wait patiently
you’ll miss your turn
Soft Rock Music
Old and New
No social media
Fan or Air conditioning on
Cold drinks standng by in great Thermos
Phones silenced
Hugs that go into the night
Amazing and loving moments
Easy and gentle
green means go
but i hesitate.
because every green light
turns yellow eventually,
and i’ve learned to fear
what’s coming.

it’s not really about driving.
it’s just,
every time life feels good,
i’m already scared
of losing it.
You don’t have to rise like the sun each day—
some mornings, it's enough just to open your eyes,
to sit with the silence,
to feel your heartbeat and whisper, “I’m still here.”

You are not the storm that passed,
nor the ruins it left behind.
You are the seed under the soil,
waiting for the right rain,
the quiet miracle of a soul not giving up.

Let no one shame the pace of your healing.
Let no voice drown out the hush of your trying.
Because surviving is not small.
And breathing, on hard days,
is a kind of bravery the world forgets to praise.

So rest, dreamer.
You don’t need to shine tonight.
You just need to stay—
soft, alive,
and wildly worthy of tomorrow.
You push yourself hard and grind everyday and you are doing great, but sometimes when things are overwhelming you must to take a break.
🔥 There’s a time to roar, and a time to breathe.
You can’t fight every day with your fists in the air. Some days, the boldest thing you can do is sit quietly and say,

> “Not today—but I’ll rise again soon.”
i hold the pen with familiar longing
but unlike a child, or a maiden filled
with youth - i did not gush within contact.
instead my hand trembles,
not with fear but with the impact of
memories resonating through time.
i remembered how i used to be me
a person i know but don't understand
as if a stranger i see everyday but
whose name i still don't know
despite the fact that we've smiled at
each other maybe once or twice.
the person i was before was not that nice
neither is the person i see now
on mirrors and people's eyes when i
stare too hard because i don't recognize
anything
anymore
i was a planet, now a comet
i was a wanderer, now lost forever

yet i feel human and alive
there's so much to do, so much to see

but for the mean time i want a fragment of me.

so, let me write again.
let me say my name.
it's time to return home. it's time to return to poetry.
if the ocean would carry me
it'll collapse under the weight of my bones
made with cement and steel
and the burden each brick owns

witness the waves howler and scream
just like the heart caged in my chest
blood bubbling around the muscle
surging with every beat and protest

the bottom of the sea may be quiet
like my tongue folded neatly in my mouth
though feral beasts deep within
choke with pressure more than i can count

the ocean and i are seperate
both flowers from different gardens
one ephemeral, one wilting before your eyes
but both's head tilting up to the heavens

sorrowful eyes, swirling, storm awakening
chaos mingling betwixt water and blood
ravid souls in dire need of feeding
cursed and blessed by god

i wonder if i could carry the ocean
within just the corners of my palm
i and the ocean - we are one
a catastrophe after the calm
i love the ocean. it makes you feel a lot of things.
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