Even as we try to keep up, it just keeps on going, like a gentle river flowing through everything,
In the quiet motion of everything it carries us along, like rivers that appear steady, even though their borders shift beneath us every moment,
The gentle motion of everything around me humbles me, when I realize that what I perceive as “me” is merely a collection of borrowed particles engaged in a dance,
The quiet motion of everything asks—if everything changes without asking, why do I still try to stay the same all over again?
The gentle motion of everything around me suggests that permanence is like a story we narrate to ourselves to sleep amidst the chaos of life…
It peels away quietly, revealing the layers of who I used to be, it then discards them like old clothing that no longer fits,
In the skin of time grows thinner when I cling to the past, but it also stretches gently when I finally get to accept and surrender,
In the skin of time years leaving behind wrinkles, resilience, and small mercies that I hadn’t noticed until they softened my anger,
In the skin of time reminds me that healing isn’t a return—it’s an evolution that never ends no matter how much time you spend dwelling,
In the skin of time, in its gentle, quiet ways, it will always reminds us that memories can be both a source of pain and a source of soothing balm…
It comforts me, but it also deceives me as nothing in the world remains constant, not even grief alone,
In the illusion of stillness, it feels like safety until I realize how boredom itself becomes another form of weakening reality,
The illusion of stillness makes me want to freeze moments like photographs, but photographs are just ghosts memories pretending they’re still alive,
The illusion of stillness is where nostalgia blooms—it’s a love refusing to accept that even beauty has to change in order to be truly appreciated,
The illusion of stillness crumbles every time I blink, and the world rearranges itself once again...
It depends on how open I am to letting go of what I believed I needed, I’m still learning,
In life’s opinion, it tells me that no kind of truth survives unchanged, that even wisdom bends its own branches toward a new sense of light,
In life’s opinion it makes me question what’s real—am I the version who hopes or the one who is learning to let go?
In life’s opinion that is never always cruel, it merely serves as a mirror, reflecting my true self from my own specific perspective,
In life’s opinion it proves that nothing is always permanent, not even our own belief, not even our own trust to life itself…
It always terrifies me because it asks me to trust what I cannot even control,
In the sanctity of change there’s no promise of comfort- only the continuation of a forward motion that forgives but nothing might be forgotten,
In the sanctity of change makes me bow to what is temporary, makes me grateful for even the smallest fragment of priceless peace,
In the sanctity of change teaches me to accept loss with open hands, knowing it will someday return in another form of grace,
In the sanctity of change there is the only permanence that is worth believing in…
• Change is the language the universe speaks fluently
• We are rewritten in every breath we take
• Stillness is only a pause between transformations
• What we lose is what reshapes us
• The sacred is not fixed—but it flows
