I'm realizing that I get attached to the most random things.
old screenshots.
a stupid little note someone wrote.
photos I forgot I even had.
a random receipt from a day I really enjoyed.
none of it is technically important, but somehow throwing it away feels wrong. 😭
what’s something completely ordinary that you’ve kept for sentimental reasons?
i was doing absolutely nothing today and suddenly caught myself wondering what kind of person leaves a book face-down, what someone's handwriting says about them, and why some people delete messages instead of sending them
normal people probably just… exist 😭
meanwhile, my brain is apparently collecting tiny details for stories I haven't even written yet
maybe that's one of my favorite things about writing, ordinary little details can become the beginning of an entire story.
i think it's funny how someone can know you for years and still only know certain versions of you.
they know what you like, what makes you laugh, what you're like around them…
but there are entire little worlds inside people that nobody else gets to see.
perhaps that's why I'm so fascinated by stories, diaries, old messages, photographs, little things people leave behind.
i can remember the most random things from 10 years ago but forget why I opened my phone 30 seconds ago
i can recognize a song from approximately three notes but will walk into a room and immediately forget what I needed
brains are fascinating 😂
what’s yours?
how can you feel close to someone you’ve never actually met?
sometimes you know little things about them. the way they think, their patterns, the things they don’t say. you only see small pieces of their life, but somehow those pieces are enough to make you feel like you understand them.
it's kind of strange when you think about it.
but at the same time, the connection can feel completely real.
perhaps connection doesn’t always need presence.
I’ve been writing a lot lately about emotions we don’t really talk about.
This thought stayed with me:
“sometimes you don’t lose people,
you just grow into someone they no longer understand.”
Does anyone else feel this?
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I’ve been thinking about this idea lately…
if someone lost their phone,
and it ended up in your hands…
would you try to find the owner
or would curiosity get the best of you?
like… reading their messages, notes, memories
not to judge them
but just to understand who they were
is that wrong?
I write things I can’t say anywhere else…
random thoughts
unsent messages
things I was too afraid to tell people
sometimes, I read them back and realize
I was hurting more than I admitted
I wonder what it would feel like
if a stranger read all of it
I feel like our phones know everything
what we search at 2am
who we miss but don’t text
what we write and delete
sometimes I wonder
if someone went through my phone
would they understand me
or misunderstand me completely?
some words stay inside us forever… not because we forgot, but because we never had the courage to say them and somehow, they echo louder with time
I’ve been thinking about this idea lately…
if someone lost their phone,
and it ended up in your hands…
would you try to find the owner
or would curiosity get the best of you?
like… reading their messages, notes, memories
not to judge them
but just to understand who they were
is that wrong?
some words stay inside us forever…
not because we forgot
but because we never had the courage to say them
and somehow, they echo louder with time
everyone talks about healing like it’s peaceful…
but no one talks about how quiet and lonely it gets
like you’re becoming someone new
but no one recognizes you anymore
I’ve been writing a lot lately about emotions we don’t really talk about.
This thought stayed with me:
“sometimes you don’t lose people,
you just grow into someone they no longer understand.”
Does anyone else feel this?