[13/02/2026] Sometimes we speak in big ways.
Long messages, promises stretching into the future, gestures meant to last forever.
And yet, the smallest gestures often slip through unnoticed. The fleeting ones, the fragile ones, the ones that ask for nothing.
I bought many bouquets for myself as a quiet gratitude, a way to honour the days Iβve lived, the moments Iβve passed through, and the life Iβve built along the way.
But this time, the flowers were not for me.
This time, they travelled from my hands to others: to strangers passing by, to someone whose day might need a soft, unexpected light, to anyone who has gone unseen, even for a moment β