Some people live loudly; others observe quietly, feeling everything a little too deeply. I belong to the latter. Always watching, always thinking-sometimes lost in my own mind, sometimes drowning in the weight of unspoken words. I have spent years standing at the edges of conversations, of moments, wondering if I truly belong or if I'm just a passing thought in someone else's life.

But I've come to realize that there's a quiet power in being the observer. In seeing the details others overlook. In feeling the emotions they suppress. In understanding the stories behind people's actions, even when they don't understand them themselves.

I write because I have things to say that I've never spoken out loud. I reflect because I refuse to be defined by the past. And I seek truth-because somewhere beneath all the illusions, all the roles, and all the masks, there is a version of me that is real.

I am not just a spectator in my own life anymore. I am learning to take up space. To be seen. To let go. And to believe that maybe, just maybe, I am infinite too.