I can't hear my thoughts so I need a pen and paper.
But here you are, reading this from your Instagram feed, with the privilege of being a brain-rot fiend.

What you're reading on your screen reflects a few parts of me, an embodiment of my past, and someone I vowed to never be.
It's confusing to see all sides of me at once with a plus one of doppelgänger Kea.

So just imagine how I might feel when my mind is a deadbeat while my heart searches for the call of The King.
You consume my digital footprint and claim to know the real me.
I find that impressive without us ever having a conversation.
Nonetheless unbiased and preconceived-free.

These words I write are primary sources,
Therefore they have all the rights to precede me.
However, the stories you hear about me, my friends, and your peers are unjust,
And do not belong between your ears.

Honestly speaking, everyone's a stranger, just some are more authentic than others.
It's a character spectrum from danger to friendly,
Evaluating to categorize as ally or enemy.

It's mind over matter and forget situational because we could be far greater than a product of our environment.
Pursue the real you and if you haven't found it yet, that's okay.
It takes time and trial and love and loss because we all have experienced feeling lost.



Saturday 8 February 2025