Maybe?

A spoken-word meditation on stillness, fleeting existence, and the small acts of kindness we owe ourselves. This track slows the listener down, inviting them to notice the quiet spaces between distractions and to find meaning in the ordinary — a warm coffee, a new pair of socks, the simple fact of being here at all.

Transcript

There are days when nothing happens, You stare at the window, Watch a leaf in the wind, Wait for some kind of sign. But boredom, Boredom is a door that only opens if you're patient. If you stop filling every silence, Something begins to bloom in it, An idea, A memory, A reminder that you are still here. And you are still here, Breathing in a body that will not last forever. The fact should terrify me, But instead it makes the coffee taste sharper, It makes laughter sting sweeter, It makes the thought of tomorrow feel like a gift I haven't unwrapped yet. Spend a little, Sometimes on yourself, Not because you've earned it, But because you exist. And existing is rare, Statistically impossible. And yet, Here you are. So buy the book you won't finish, The wine you won't share, The socks that make you smile when no one is watching. We are brief, We are burning, And maybe that is enough.