February 22, 2026

Dear Stranger, 

I don't write here much anymore, I'm not sure why, staring at the blank canvas feels daunting nowadays. Another thing I'm not capable of facing I suppose. But still I feel the sun, and isn't that lovely? Still I touch with ease, and isn't that freeing? Still I watch eyes open, and isn't the view wondrous? I walk on the same paved streets as them, dance to the same music and laugh at the same jokes, fall for the same beauty and cry at the same heartbreaks, wake to the same sun and break at the same sins. I'm still drawing their shapes and memorising their songs every day of my life. After everything, I still love them the same. And isn't that a testament to my strength? Isn't that proof of the battles that didn't kill me? Isn't there pride to be had in that? 

- C