Incomprehensible

On the road, where pine trees stretch into the sky like thin arrows, life suddenly becomes as soft as cotton candy in the rain. Nothing is going according to plan - the plane has flown away, time has stretched out, and in this gap between point A and point B, a rare luxury appears: being. No schedule, no mask, no anxious ‘musts.’ Just driving, catching radio static, smelling wet flowers, and realising that growing up is not a punishment, but a process of becoming someone softer, more honest, almost transparent.

Silver in your hair, old letters in your backpack, a teddy bear with a worn-out face - these are not signs of loss, but traces of living movement. The beauty here is not in filters or eternal youth, but in the freedom to dance barefoot when no one is watching and let the wind style your hair as it pleases. Let everything be a little strange, unpolished, incomprehensible - because that is where true, unashamed harmony lies.