Perhaps I have always known how to feel, but more often, I find myself gazing at my own being, lost in it at times, yet pulling away at others. I often sense that I am a tree standing at the crossroads of mountains and seas, growing branches swaying with ambiguous uncertainty.

At times, I am resolute in my solitude, yet that resolve fades swiftly, softened by the tears of a listener brimming with blessings. Each time pain, with its immense gravity, pulls me into its abyss, a bright smile swiftly defeats it, revealing all the shadows and fragility within.

Everything that touches me here, I deeply receive. More moments, rooted beyond this city, are born from feeling. I walk alone for long stretches, as though each step affirms my certainty about what the next century will hold.

One day, I will lose all memories, and yet I will only remember that I was a happy soul.