so life is not something that waits for you to understand it. it is something you keep brushing against in quiet, accidental ways until one day you realise all of a sudden, overwhelmingly, that you were already inside its meaning all along
our minds are made to trace meaning through chaos, to recognise patterns the moment they resemble the person you are becoming. and so when one small corner of this world aligns with you out of thousands, it feels like destiny
because meaning is not always written into places, sometimes it is something you awaken within them, and you turn ordinary walls into memory, and coincidence into something almost sacred
and things get broken, and sometimes they get repaired, and in most cases, you realise that no matter what gets damaged, life rearranges itself to compensate for your loss, sometimes wonderfully