I see the world in fragments, with words unsaid, eyes that speak, and places that feel like memories I never lived. Silence is a language I learned too early, in rooms where truth was too heavy to carry aloud. Curiosity became a way to escape, to imagine softness where life felt sharp and watched. There’s a quiet beauty in those who think deeply but say little, like shadows that protect rather than hide. In a place where privacy is survival, not solitude, here where being unseen is safer than being known, I keep my peace by staying unread.