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Humans cannot live in grey. So we smuggle in color. One shade, then a flood.

The brain never stores memories in order but by emotion. Your life is only a highlight reel that refused to be forgotten.

Some cultures have no word for “later.” There, life has no future. Only now. Maybe that’s how it is.

If your life looks too straight, you’re just tracing someone else’s line. Every inch of it.

A child’s story has forty beginnings and no punchlines. Children have no interest in results. Adults call this a problem.

There are no straight lines in our lives. We draw them in later. Just to feel calm.

The more crowded the cafe, the lonelier I feel. The emptier the cafe, the more at home.

Sometimes people write their wishes on paper. Ink may carry a hope from feeling to action.

Before calendars, humans measured life in harvests and festivals, not years. Maybe that was the more human way to live.

The world is not a puzzle to be solved. It is a tide to be felt. You have always been in it.