I always loved snow, a new year without snow is not the same atmosphere. Snow is always an addition to a good mood.❄️🎄

I'm just honest about different things. I'm honest about my doubts and my exhaustion and my refusal to perform. But I'm deeply, deliberately dishonest about other things.

My nature is to nurture. I like making things beautiful. I like taking care of people. I like thinking about their comfort and their happiness. This isn't because I was forced into it—it's genuinely who I am. But lately I've been wondering if I'm using this as an excuse to disappear.

Knowledge is what you get from books and learning and other people's ideas. I have a lot of knowledge. I read theology.

I can feel it happening every time. The first few days in the city are fine—I'm strong, I'm grounded, I remember myself. But then the weeks pass and the noise gets louder and somewhere inside me something starts to dissolve.

I decided to celebrate New Year's at home, alone, with pizza and TV shows. Everything was going perfectly until I remembered to take out the trash. At 11:50 PM. In the entryway. In complete silence.

I'd been living in this apartment for three years now and knew almost nothing about my neighbor. Only sounds - footsteps in the morning, soft music in the evening, and her polite "hello" in the elevator. No names, no conversations. Just a person behind the wall.

She hadn't planned anything special for this New Year. No noisy company, no list of "Monday" resolutions, and no fireworks until the morning. Just a quiet evening, garlands hanging on the window, and tea that was cooling too quickly.

Sometimes home is not walls, but something much more, right? Not an address. And not even the keys in the bag.

Shop windows are flashing, people are running somewhere, and I catch myself thinking, I don't want it to be faster, but warmer. Is it the same with you?

Sometimes, on the quietest winter evening, when snow gently falls to the ground, it seems as if the world slows down. At such moments, even the most rational people begin to believe in miracles. Why? Because deep down, we know: there is something greater, something capable of changing the course of events, fulfilling wishes, and giving us unexpected encounters.

Do you know how I ended up here, on this site, and why I believe true feelings can be found even online?

I keep seeing this pattern, and it bothers me every time.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately, especially watching my parents' relationship.

I see it everywhere. Young girls obsessing over how many likes they got, how many followers they lost, what people think of their photos. 😔

You would think that after all these years of baking, I would know how to do it by now. But no. Today I put the loaf in the oven, got distracted talking to my neighbor, and when I remembered—it was already charred black on the edges. 😭 And I cried. Not a little frustrated sigh, but actual tears.

It happened again today, and I don't even understand when this became my reflex. 😔

There was this couple next to me and they were holding hands but barely talking. They looked like they were posing for a photograph that no one was taking. The vendor selling hot drinks was smiling so hard it looked painful.

It's in the small, consistent choices she makes every single day that add up to creating a home 🏡

Christmas has so much noise around it – shopping, decorating, planning, all the external activity.