I stay quiet and ask myself:
what am I supposed to do when nothing changes?
I look in the mirror, asking again:
what happened to me? I'm not the same.
I stay up until 4 a.m., staring at the ceiling,
wondering what I can change.
But the answers never come to me,
and I'm left in the dark
as my quiet voice and noisy thoughts
drift away slowly into silence —
something I never thought would happen to me.
Then I say...
the problem is my loud thoughts
that cover me in the silence of the night,
but I still can't find the answers
that will stop this fight
until the morning comes
with its new problems.
And when morning comes,
I whisper,
maybe I will finally find the answers tonight...
Oct 19, 2025
Oct 19, 2025 at 7:46 AM UTC
If my thoughts were a place,
They would look like an empty meadow—or maybe a crowded and noisy city.
The first city that comes to mind is New York.
Everyone has had the New York dream at some point in their lives.
For me, New York is the same as my mind:
Crowded and noisy, yet as peaceful as a meadow.
When I close my eyes, I see a beautiful view from a skyscraper,
With lights so lovely, yet unnoticed—
Because everyone is asleep.
But I stay quiet, watching this beautiful, silent place.
It gives me peace.
Towards morning, the faint sound of police sirens echoes.
This is New York:
A quiet but noisy place,
A classic city every child dreams of.
So, this is my mind.
If my thoughts were a place,
They would look like New York.
Oct 19, 2025
Oct 19, 2025 at 7:24 AM UTC
Memories are like the melody of my heart; they are echoes in a distant hall, and one day nobody will remember them at all. One hour, one minute, or one second, and they’re gone—like they never existed. We always say that we should live for the moment, but the moment lives for us and becomes a memory.
Memories are like tears on paper or bright sunlight in the sky. Sometimes we can choose, but sometimes we cannot. They flow with time. Are people made for memories, or are memories made for people? I guess it's a choice, too.
Memories are like a fingerprint: once it is left, you can’t remove it, but if you remove it in time, its echo will haunt you forever. But what if memories are gone one day? Will the melody of my heart disappear with them?
Jan 6, 2025
Jan 6, 2025 at 7:14 PM UTC