Wall of Protection and Mischief

“Sometimes we put up walls. Not to keep people out, but to see who cares enough to knock them down.”

This is so true.
And don’t blame me if I’ve done it —
if I built a wall around myself.

Because if you really get me,
you’ll know why.

The truth?
The wall wasn’t always there.
But every time we got hurt,
it grew thicker.
Every disappointment added another layer.
And every time someone left,
we learned how to pick up the pieces ourselves.

We started standing back,
hiding behind jokes,
laughing when it hurts,
pretending we're fine.

There’s good and bad about building walls.
Sometimes, they protect us.
Sometimes, they save us from falling apart again.
But yeah — sometimes, they keep the good stuff out too.

We stop caring like we used to.
We stop feeling like we used to.
But it's not because we don’t want to.
It’s because we’re afraid of caring
and getting nothing in return.

So if I seem cold, or hard to reach —
don’t assume I don’t care.
It might just mean I care too much.
And I’m scared.

Because the people who matter…
they won’t just knock on the wall —
they’ll climb over it,
or wait on the other side,
or sit with you until you’re ready to open it yourself.

We’re not afraid to love again.
We’re just afraid of loving alone.

So if you see my wall —
don’t walk away.
Prove to me you’re not like the rest.

Diamonds and Stones

We always think we have time.
Time to text back.
Time to make up.
Time to say what we should’ve said.
But people aren’t forever.

Sometimes, we take hearts for granted —
like they’ll always be there.
Until they’re not.

And by the time we realize what we lost,
we're left holding things that never mattered,
while the one thing that did...
slipped away quietly.

Hold your people close.
The real ones.
The ones who see you when you’re quiet,
stay when you’re messy,
and love you anyway.

Because one day you’ll look back
and either smile at what you held onto,
or ache for what you let go.

Don’t lose a diamond
while chasing stones.

A Star for the Living

Just came back from a funeral.
Mood’s low.
Heavy.
Still.

I found myself back on that chair —
the one at the balcony I always go to
when I need to feel something real.

I looked up.
The sky was quiet.
Except for one star, blinking at me
like it knew something I didn’t.

In life, people come and go.
They arrive like whispers
and leave like echoes.

And suddenly, I started wondering —
How long will I be here?
How much more time do I have in this world?

We never know.
But tonight,
I’m still here.
Breathing.
Thinking.
Feeling.

A peaceful night,
for someone still alive.
And somehow,
that feels like enough.

A Quiet Goodbye

We gather not just to mourn,
but to remember.
To hold space for a life —
imperfect, but real.
Worn by time,
shaped by love,
and marked by the dreams once held close.

They say a man is not old
until his regrets take the place of dreams.
And if that’s true —
then he stayed young, in his own way.
Still chasing hopes,
still holding pieces of light,
even in the dark.

He wasn’t perfect.
None of us are.
But he was here.
And he mattered.

So today, we don’t say goodbye.
We say thank you.
For the time.
For the lessons.
For the echoes that remain.

Rest easy now.
We’ll carry the dreams from here.