Ah, so they speak of me again? How utterly predictable. One stirs a room merely by existing—I suppose that must be exhausting for them. I arrive, and suddenly their pens tremble, their mirrors lie, their silence breaks.
These days, I’ve been falling in love with the idea of slow living. It feels like a gentle hug for my soul. Because, I’ve always been the type to rush around, ticking boxes and chasing goals, but now I find myself craving moments that feel like honey—slow, sweet, and golden.