Everyone’s chasing perfection.
I’m just trying to get by.

Every morning blurs into the next. Same alarm. Same coffee.

The same streets filled with faces I barely know.

I work in the place I once dreamed of.

Now it just feels like another day passing.

Small talk. Empty laughter.

Sometimes I wonder, is this all life is supposed to be?

Wake up, work, go home, repeat.

One afternoon, after being scolded over something small, I hid in the pantry.

That’s when I met someone from IT.

Quiet. Calm. But his eyes felt like they already knew what I was carrying.

He gave me something simple, yet somehow, it meant more than I expected.

That night, I just sat there, staring at what he’d given me.

And for the first time in a while, something inside me shifted.

Maybe that’s where it started.

Finding back the things I thought I’d lost.

Meaning, connection, and the courage to feel again.