IloveUm0r3

This made my day today:
          
          I asked each department to design a strategic model for 2026.
          After some quiet scribbling, one lead stepped forward and revealed…
          a diagram that looked unmistakably like a potato.
          
          A potato.
          Round. Simple. Full of mystery.
          
          And somehow, everyone nodded as if it contained
          the blueprint for world peace
          and the secret to unlimited funding.
          
          I kept a straight face so they wouldn’t feel embarrassed, but inside, my soul was whisper-screaming,
          “Why does our future look like a vegetable?”
          
          I stared at it longer than I should have.
          Maybe the strategy was hidden between the curves.
          Maybe it was abstract genius…
          or maybe lunch was late and we were all delirious.
          
          But then, a thought rooted itself in my mind:
          
          Perhaps the potato was a metaphor,
          a humble prophecy of growth.
          We begin small,
          quiet in the soil,
          building roots where no one sees.
          
          And one day…
          we rise,
          we transform,
          we become french fries, golden, warm, and capable of bringing joy to even the tired souls of strategic planning.
          
          If that’s the future we’re heading toward,
          from dirt to delicious,
          from simple to something that sparks a smile,
          then honestly,
          I’m in. ✨
          
          Transformation, but make it crispy.
          hahahahaha
          
          

I stood before the place where my parents now rest,
          yet somehow, their love still reached me, soft, invisible, unmistakably theirs.
          
          One tear fell, carrying pieces of our happiest days.
          If only time could listen…
          I would ask it to pause, to return the warmth of their laughter, to let me see them once more.
          
          Some wishes never speak aloud…
          yet the heart still whispers: I wish…
          
          Don’t worry, Mom and Dad. I’ll be alright. I’ll stay strong, just the way you raised me to be.
          
          You will forever live in my heart, remembered, cherished, and loved until the day we meet again.
          
          Please watch over me from where you are…
          guide my steps, and lead me to the right souls, those who will honor my kindness, not take advantage of it.
          
          I love you both, always. ❤️

          This little corner is where I slip away from the loudness of life…Where my thoughts are allowed to breathe without permission.
          
          Out there, I move with purpose, steady, guarded, unshaken. It’s the strength my father taught me,
          and the world has learned not to test it.
          
          But here…
          if you look closely enough, the walls soften.
          
          You might find the quieter part of me,
          the one that still believes in warmth,
          in gentle souls,
          in small moments that feel like everything.
          
          I don’t show that side often.
          Only to those who stay long enough to listen.
          
          If you’re still here…
          maybe you’re one of them.
          
          Funny, isn’t it…
          How in a world full of faces,
          I still feel like there’s a missing piece, 
          and somehow, it might be you.
          
          Are you my destiny?
          Or just a beautiful thought
          crossing my universe for a moment?
          
          Sometimes, I wonder…
          if one day I’ll get to hold you close, 
          rest in your arms, and make your heartbeat the place I call home.
          
          Until then…
          I’ll wait here quietly,
          where my words can reach you
          before my hands ever could.

I start with destiny,
          pause with a tiny dot,
          then ask if you’re the one,
          said quick, all pressed together,
          and end where love letters sleep.
          If you think this is about you…
          maybe it is. 
          
          If your heart already knows,
          I’m waiting in your inbox. 
          
          And if you never find me…
          perhaps our story was only meant
          to whisper once before fading
          into the quiet. ✨

To the one who still lives quietly in my thoughts:
          
          I’m not sure why you continue to pull at me.
          Maybe it’s the way your words once felt as if they were meant for me or how your presence lingered long after our brief conversations ended.
          
          I tell myself I’ve let it go, yet I still notice when your warmth seems to drift toward someone else.
          Strange how a heart can ache for something it never truly had.
          
          I don’t want to claim you.
          I just want you to know, you mattered.
          More than I ever planned for.
          More than I should admit.
          
          If, someday, you remember me in a quiet moment between breaths…I hope it makes your heart pause too, the way mine still does when I think of you.
          
          Maybe this is where I step back, knowing I was never meant to be seen. But if, by chance, I were to open my heart to the one waiting in front of me…
          would you let me go? Or would you ask me to stay?
          
          Still here, quietly...

Just got home—tired, worn thin by the weight of today.
          
          I had to step into a storm I didn’t choose,
          leave my passion behind and walk into a problem that demanded my name.
          
          Nights like this feel colder…the silence louder.
          I wish Dad were here, he always carried wisdom like a lantern, lighting the paths I couldn’t see.
          
          Still, life is a beautiful mess
          a tangle of trials and tiny miracles.
          Some days we break,
          other days we bloom.
          Tonight, I’m somewhere in between.

          Had an early run — the air felt lighter, maybe because I finally stopped chasing what was never meant to run back. Cooked my favorite meal after, the kind that tastes better when shared only in memory.
          
          Ended the day by the shore… and the waves, somehow, still whispered your name.

And now,
          I don’t chase moments anymore.
          I just wait for the ones that still remember my name
          in the silence.

The journey left me weary, but my heart keeps wandering.
          I only wish to rest — to lie still and let the idea of you curl around me like the night itself —
          quiet, unseen, yet impossible to escape.
          
          Maybe it’s not age — just the weight of all the miles I’ve traveled. Still, I like to think I’m not getting younger…just seasoned — and yes, still hot. 

Not every silence is empty.
          Some hold the echo of a name I never say aloud.
          
          The nights stretch quietly, yet I still feel the pull —
          a faint hum between worlds, between words,
          as if something unseen keeps rewriting our story in the dark.
          
          I tell myself it’s only memory,
          but when the wind carries warmth instead of cold,
          I start to wonder who’s thinking of whom.
          
          If they ever find these words,
          I hope they’ll read them as a heartbeat — soft, constant, unspoken.
          
          Maybe the heart still writes what the lips can’t say…
          for the one who reads between lines,
          and feels what was never spoken.