Random fragments spill into my notes, born in moments when everything grows too heavy, too vast to be released beneath my breath, when the ache grows so large it begins to dissolve me.
This is where I let everything out-the chaos, the silence, the things I can't say out loud. It doesn't judge, doesn't ask why, doesn't need explanations. It just exists, ready to catch whatever spills from my mind, whether it's broken pieces or fleeting moments of joy. It feels like talking to someone who's always there but never speaks, just listens-and somehow, that's enough.