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Used to be we could count on the seasons, predict the weather. Now everything's different. They say it's just climate cycles, natural changes. But we know better, don't we? The truth's in the dying fields, in the empty grain silos.

When I was young, very young, there was this neighbor of ours, a kind woman who lived alone. She would sit on her porch every evening, and the other people in town, they wondered about her, why she never married or went to the social gatherings.

The coffee had grown cold, forgotten like so many things in this cramped apartment. Through the window, the city lights flickered like dying stars, each one holding someone else's story. He wondered if they too sat awake at 3 AM, haunted by the words they never said.

Yesterday I counted my reflections in the house mirrors. There were seven of me, or maybe seven of my brothers. We shared one apple between us. Nobody knows who actually ate it. Maybe the mirror people took it. It was filling, though.

The more I delve into the depths of knowledge, the more shadows I encounter. Perhaps true wisdom lies not in understanding everything, but in accepting that some questions are meant to remain unanswered. Solitude teaches this lesson well.

You see, we spend our best years building walls to protect things that don't love us back. I've learned that the only wealth worth keeping is the memories of people who truly cared. Stop rushing toward a finish line that doesn't exist, and just be present for once.

Remember, my child, time is like sand slipping through our fingers. The moments we waste today become the regrets of tomorrow. Cherish every smile, every embrace, for these simple treasures are what make life truly meaningful.

Look, those walls are funny. First you hate them, then you get used to them. After enough time passes, you depend on them. That’s being institutionalized. It’s a quiet kind of trap, and once it gets its hooks in you, there’s no letting go.