Life dims at the edges sometimes, like a photograph left too long in sunlight, where colors bleed into softer shades of gray.
I watch the hours slip through fingers like grains of sand, each moment carrying whispers of what could have been. The world grows quieter in these shadowed times when even the birds seem to hold their songs, and familiar paths feel strange beneath weary feet. Memories fade into the corners of empty rooms, collecting dust alongside forgotten dreams and half-written letters.
In these darker days, the mirror reflects a stranger's eyes, tired and questioning. Yet beneath the heavy silence, past the echoing hollowness that fills my chest, a small flame refuses to die. It flickers like distant starlight, barely visible but stubbornly present, reminding me that even the longest nights must yield to dawn. The darkness may wrap around shoulders like a familiar shawl, but it cannot hide the resilient spirit that waits, patient and enduring, for light's return.
https://open.spotify.com/track/1zFaLYA10ImwEejge3F5nm?si=tdGRNauBTnuR2K-Np4AMlg
Here, a bright-eyed dreamer who finds his happy place between the pages of well-worn books and the gentle hum of his favorite tunes.
Yet sometimes, when the sun sets and his room grows quiet, he gazes out his window at the twinkling stars, fingers absently strumming his guitar strings, he quietly wonders about the other dreamers out there who might be painting their own world in the same watercolor shades of music, stories, and stardust that color his own.