Ночь. Дождь за окошком тихо плакал...
Под тёмным пологом невидима Луна.
По жестяному козырьку окна —
тихонько звякал,
И я не спал.

И мысли, как всегда, крутились и крутились,
Они неслись как кони, без вожжей.
По тёмной комнате тихонечко бродили,
Вдруг запинались возле памяти камней.

О, сколько тех камней судьба бросала!
Их не собрать все в кучу на краю.
Дорога не воротится в начало.
На зыбкой кромке молча постою.

Дождь за окошком тихо плакал —
Ночь собирает жизни урожай.
По подоконнику судьбы тихонько звякал...
На жизни поле поливал цветы.

I didn’t listen  
not at first  
not when the words were soft  
or when they cracked  
or when they came wrapped in silence  
because silence is easy to ignore  

you were trying  
to say something  
not with your mouth  
but with your eyes  
your posture  
the way you stopped laughing  
without telling anyone why  

I was busy  
being loud  
being clever  
being the kind of person people look at  
but don’t see  

you said  
listen  
and I thought you meant  
hear  
but you meant  
feel  
you meant  
stay  
you meant  
don’t turn away  
just because it’s uncomfortable  

I kept missing it  
the ache in your voice  
the way your sentences trailed off  
they were afraid of their endings  
and I let them  
I let you  
fade  

now I replay it  
the moments I brushed past  
the pauses I filled  
the truths I dodged  
and I wonder  
what would’ve happened  
if I had shut up  
just once  
and let you be  

you weren’t asking for answers  
just space  
just presence  
just someone who didn’t need to fix you  
to prove anything  
to win  

I hear you now  
too late maybe  
but I do  
and it’s louder  
than anything I ever said

Some people’s insecurity has nothing to do with you personally — it’s about the reflection they see in you. You’re a living reminder of the roads they were too afraid to take, the risks they refused to embrace, and the dreams they quietly buried under excuses. Your courage to try makes them uneasy because it exposes their choice not to. Your progress stirs something in them — not admiration, but frustration — because it reminds them of how far they could have gone if they had only moved.

They’ll say you were “lucky” just to downplay the years you’ve worked. They’ll try to pick apart your flaws just to distract themselves from their own regrets. They’ll whisper about you, twist stories, and turn people against you — because in their mind, if they can make you look smaller, their own lack of action won’t feel so big.

But here’s the truth: you are not responsible for their unfulfilled potential. You do not have to dim your light to make their darkness more comfortable. You are allowed to succeed, even if it makes others uncomfortable. Their insecurity is not your burden to carry.

In the end, people will either be inspired by your growth or be threatened by it. And the ones who are threatened? They were never rooting for you in the first place. So let them watch from the sidelines while you keep moving forward. You’re not here to relive their missed chances — you’re here to live your own destiny.

"Worrying is like worshipping the problem"

Every moment you dwell on it; you give it more authority over your mind and heart. You feed it with your attention until it feels bigger than it really is. But the truth is, problems shrink when placed beside God’s power.

“Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?” (Matthew 6:27). Shift your focus from the weight of the obstacle to the strength of the One who can move it, for “with God all things are possible” (Matthew 19:26). What you magnify is what will dominate your life — so magnify hope, not fear. And when anxiety rises, remember: “Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7).

Shift your focus from the weight of the obstacle to the strength of the One who can move it. What you magnify is what will dominate your life — so magnify hope, not fear.

O She who rises from the womb of the sea,
crowned with foam and crowned with flame,
whose breath stirs the tides
and whose glance births blossoms from barren stone
Bearer of the golden girdle,
keeper of the wine of longing,
mother to the song that awakens the flesh,
and the dream that burns in the marrow.
Aphrodite, hear me.
Pour into my heart the wine of its desire,
and in the cup of that union,
let there be peace.

i am a piece of broken glass lost at sea,
i am sharp; quick; clean; unforeseen
i am slowly ground down into the sand—
softer and softer i go in its hand
i drift slowly nearer to the humans' humble abode
until i wash ashore uncovered, i groan,
i am stuck in the land of the living
sea glass is nothing more than what humans are giving,
i am a piece of sea glass in his collection
when he found me? i have no recollection
he is me and i am him,
people have no clue that he is my victim.