beauty of showin up.

 

there is no story but ur own, and the meaning u find in writing it each day. some days, it feels like u r typing into the dark, each word uncertain, each thought a flicker of light dat might vanish before it lands. other days, it feels effortless, like ur heart and ur mind have finally aligned, spilling truth onto the screen as if it’s been waiting all along. dat’s the beauty of it, isnt it? dat life isnt meant to be perfect - it’s meant to be lived - in the messiness, in the rawness, in the courage it takes to begin again.

ur story doesnt need to imitate anyone else’s. it doesnt need to fit neatly into chapters or follow some predetermined plot. it’s enough dat ur living it, shaping it wit every choice, every quiet moment of bravery, every dream u dare to hold close. even when the cursor blinks back at u, a silent challenge on a blank screen, or when ur thoughts spiral into doubt, the act of trying - of believin there’s somethg worth sayin - is wat matters most.

every word u type is a piece of u, a mosaic of who u’ve been, who u r, and who ur trying to become. and on the days when the weight of it all feels unbearable, when it seems like ur stuck in a chapter dat refuses to end, rmbr dis: u r still the author. u hold the power to revise, to reimagine, to create somethg entirely new, for ur own fcukin life.

maybe the most meaningful moments r not in reaching the perfect ending or crafting the perfect sentence, but in the quiet, vulnerable act of showing up. of facing the empty screen, letting ur fingers find their way, and trustin dat whatever comes out is enuff - becoz it’s u. and u r enuff. 

dat’s where the real story begins.