As long as we can see the same sky, breathe the same air, step on the same planet, then you and I are not impossible. ST.1994 My Dear 1994, I feel you closer than ever now. Not as a thought, not as a wish, but as a quiet certainty resting in my chest. Sometimes I catch myself wondering who you are. What kind of life do you have? Whether your silence feels like mine. Whether, somewhere out there, You are also pausing in the middle of ordinary days, feeling something you can’t

My Dear Stranger, “Dreams work if you do it,” They said. Lately, I keep seeing those words everywhere. On screens. On pages. In passing conversations. And every time, they hit me. Pause me. I wonder why they keep finding me. The more I see them, The more I feel something stir, like a quiet reminder knocking from inside. And to whoever is trying to remind me, This is my honest answer: “I understand. I really do. But where do I begin? How? What am I supposed to work on if I don

My Dear Stranger, Sometimes, I wake up with a quiet weight in my chest, a feeling made of questions. Have you ever felt that? A sense that something important is hidden, not far away, not dramatic, just… there. Waiting to be noticed. It comes without warning. I can’t control it. I can’t turn it off. I learnt to live with it. It slips into ordinary moments—a glance, a sound, a passing thought, and suddenly my heart is asking things my mind cannot explain. It feels as if my own

My 1994, I think I fell in love with a city long before I understood why. There is something about Melbourne that feels familiar to my soul. The sky there captivates me, calms me. The air feels like it remembers me, even when I have never been close enough to touch it. But importantly, this familiar feeling, that there's a person that I've been waiting to meet. Someone that my soul recognizes yet never sees. It came to me late— this realization. One quiet night, looking at o

I understand now. To be able to love others, I must first learn to love myself. And to love myself, I need to know myself— who I am, my strengths and my weaknesses, my beliefs, my past, my broken parts, my pain, my imperfections. Not to judge them. But to see them. To accept them. To embrace them. Along this journey, I am learning one thing slowly but surely: I cannot walk alone. So I choose to involve Jesus in everything— in every decision shaped by my mind, every emotion ca

Hey you, Finally. Where are you from? It's been a while since your last visit. I kinda miss you. A lot. What are you doing there? Why are you hiding? Come on, please come out from your hiding, look at me, and talk to me. Don't hide behind those grays. I need you. I want to see you. Your wave of beauty. Your sea of white. Your laugh of happiness. Your tears of sadness. Your wounds of pain and hardships. Your flaws. Your weirdness. Your imperfections. The whole of you. Even you

My Dear Stranger, I met Jesus on my darkest night. Not when I was strong. Not when I still believed in myself. But when I was empty. The last person I loved broke my heart and walked away, leaving me bleeding inside. That was the night I gave up. I stopped trying to control my life. Stopped forcing myself to fit in. Stopped believing in people. Stopped trusting my own strength. I was broken, and for the first time, I didn’t even care anymore. I said to Him, “I don’t want this

My Dear Stranger, In this world, so much remains hidden and unseen. Some things are invisible simply because of our human limitations. Others are hidden—intentionally—by people, communities, or systems seeking to satisfy their own needs. Position. Health. Wealth. Popularity. Power. Yet I grew up believing, Even in the most chaotic moments, when the darkness feels unbearable, when every path seems closed, Hope and justice are never absent. They follow quietly. They see everyth

LOVE ATTACK One magical moment in life. when love accidentally breaks in and shows itself; directly; into the most private room inside our hearts. Uninvited. Vie. 14.08.2021 It happened without permission. A quiet afternoon, nothing extraordinary planned— just light passing by, mind elsewhere, heart guarded. Then the sun leaned closer, slipped through the window like it knew the way, broke itself into colors on my wall— a small, sacred rainbow, temporary, precise, intentional

Skies on August 13, 2021 Hello, my lovely skies; Hello, my bright sun, and whitey clouds. How are you? I'm sorry that I couldn't stay longer. I will miss your sunset today. I'm here just to check on you. to say hi, and enjoy your beauty; before I leave for work. My dear, You're the only one who can make me happily alive. The one who heals my heart and soul. The passionately brightest light of your lovely sun. The attractiveness and glamor of your whitey clouds. and together;

People thought that you had just a regular room window. They have no idea that you are my secret to happiness. ​ My regular room window is my magic tunnel, my secret door to happiness; vitamin for my health; drugs to my addiction; love potion spells to my heart. ​ You are my "Window to the Sky", where I could see everything that is naturally real; Miraculously beautiful; Breathtakingly perfect; ​ It's an Earth's live painting show; where I can enjoy it privately. ​ My skies;

My Dear Stranger, Growing up, I learned early that the relationship between love, happiness, and belonging is never as simple as people make it sound. It looks clear from a distance—almost mathematical—yet becomes deeply complicated the moment you live inside it. Simple in theory. Heavy in practice. As time passed, I began to notice how the world quietly trains us to measure life through borrowed standards. Invisible checklists. Inherited timelines. Unspoken expectations. A m

My Dear Stranger, This is me again—your stranger. Like a mirror, I can see pieces of reflection of myself in you. Two different lives, shaped so differently, in opposite directions, Yet somehow carved from the same truth. You were born into a life that stands in contrast to mine. A warm, happy home. Supporting parents. Laughter at the dinner table. Sisters beside you—built-in companions, witnesses to your becoming. I was born into absence. Into quiet rooms. Into the feeling o

My Dear Stranger, People have always scared me. Not in the loud, obvious ways—but in the quiet ones. I grew up learning how to feel people before I learned how to understand them. I sensed the moment their energy shifted, when smiles stopped reaching their eyes, when pain hid beneath their words like an unspoken language. That awareness stayed with me. It made me gentle. It made me tired. It made me afraid— because I learned early that people can change without warning, a

My Dear Stranger, I don’t know where you are now, or which world you’re standing in as you read this—if you are reading this at all. But I hope, quietly and sincerely, that you are safe. My Dear Stranger, When I saw you that day, nothing made sense—yet everything did. Your eyes spoke a language I had never learned, yet somehow understood. They carried doubt, confusion, uncertainty—and beneath all of it, a pain so deep it had learned how to stay silent. Your heart didn’t screa

My Dear Stranger, Without any warning, I saw the other side of life. It felt like falling—not down, but through. Through something thin and unseen. A crack between two worlds. Our worlds. One moment I was here, the next I was standing in a place I didn’t understand. A world that felt cold and different. Out of place. A world that felt older than time. A world that carried secrets—dark ones, buried deep, as if they had been hidden for thousands of years. And somehow, you were

My Dear Stranger, Do you ever feel like you don’t belong in this world? Well, I do. I often feel like I don’t fit anywhere— like I’m standing slightly out of frame, present, yet misplaced. nor like I’m always a step behind, or standing slightly to the side of where life is happening. Lost. Lonely. And yet…I want to belong. I want to feel like I belong—somewhere, even once. I want to know what it feels like to walk into a room without shrinking, to exist without constantly ad

My Dear Stranger I feel as if I have spent my life as a watcher—quiet and unseen, sensing and observing everything from a secret place hidden behind the shadows. From where I stood; In silence, I learned the language of emotions: disappointment, conflict, fear, betrayal, injustice, ignorance, misery. I have carried them all without ever raising my voice. My Dear Stranger, I believe nothing happens without reason. Every step we take, every word we speak— whether we are aware o

(A Letter Under the Moonlight)  My Dear Stranger, How have you been? It’s been a while since my last letter. Do you know something? Sometimes this feeling of missing you crashes over me — too deep to contain. It sweeps me into a place I’ve never known before; a strange, tender world, painted in light, flowers, and butterflies. My Dear Stranger, Are you happy now? Truly happy —with your new life, with who you’ve become, with the person you see in the mirror today? Have you ev

My Dear Stranger, I don’t know how to explain this feeling. I don’t even understand it myself. All I know is—I feel you. This letter may never reach you. Perhaps not in this lifetime. Still, it insists on being written. My Dear Stranger, Who are you, really? You don’t know my name. Just as I don’t know yours. We are two unknowns, passing through the same quiet orbit. And yet—somewhere in the past, I believe I saw you. Years ago. Only for a second. Long enough for you to steal

My Dear Stranger, How are you ? This letter is for you. For the soul I’ve met that night—or perhaps only dreamed of. For the voices that linger in my memory. I write from the in-between— between what is felt and what is spoken, between what I show and what I hide. These are the words I never said, the stories I kept folded inside the corners of my heart, the fragments that still glow in the dark when no one’s looking. Each word you’ll find here is a piece of my truth— a confe

My 1994, Sometimes I sit quietly and think about how strange, how tender life can be. How two lives can move through time and distance, completely unaware of each other, yet somehow already intertwined. They told me you are my soulmate. My twin, they said. And I never quite understood what I was seeing or feeling. I feel like I've known you before. You are much younger than I, yet your soul feels older. As if you arrived later in time, but earlier in wisdom. I’ve walked long

My 1994, I don’t know why this year carries weight in my chest like a quiet prayer I never learned how to say out loud. 1994 doesn’t shout. It whispers. And somehow, my soul listens. There is something sacred about it—not in the way memories are loud, But in the way breath is holy simply because it exists. 1994 feels like the moment the universe paused, smiled softly, and decided to place you somewhere on this planet without telling me where. I couldn’t explain it then. I sti