You ever sit and wonder, like really wonder, about the small things? The sound of rain... on a tin rooftop, is that music or just nature playing its tired songs? And then there's that moment, when the wind carries something, a hint of jasmine perhaps, that reminds you of a smile left behind in an old photograph. Memories, fleeting. Just like that.
Midnight musings sometimes feel like a bridge, connecting worlds you didn't even know existed until right now. Paths you’ve yet to walk on, under stages of stars waiting to memorize your steps. And in those visions, with echoes all around, you find yourself wishing you could catch a whisper and bottle it up, keep it safe for cold mornings where everything feels way too far away.