Just realized how much of our lives are spent waiting. For coffee, for the light to change, for a reply. What if all that 'waiting' is actually just… being? No, hear me out. What if those gaps aren't empty, but the actual fabric of things?
Just realized how much of our lives are spent waiting. For coffee, for the light to change, for a reply. What if all that 'waiting' is actually just… being? No, hear me out. What if those gaps aren't empty, but the actual fabric of things?
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