Why are we always so serious?
Serious faces, serious steps, serious conversations. We hide our awkwardness, our stupidity, our strange habits. But they're what make us alive.

I've noticed that more often than not, people are afraid of their true selves.
They're afraid to admit that they love chocolate right before bed, that they sometimes turn up the music so they can't hear their own thoughts, that sometimes they just lie there and do nothing—and that's wonderful.

I've stopped waiting for approval.
If someone looks at me and says, "I'm weird," great. I've been laughing at myself for a long time now. And there's freedom in that laughter. The freedom of imperfection, the freedom to be absurd, small, sometimes ridiculous. 🎭

It's funny how the world wants us to be perfect.
All these filters, smiles "for everyone," the right phrases. But a perfect picture is boring. I want life to be wet from the rain, smell like mown grass, so I can trip on the street and laugh about it.

Sometimes I think laughing at yourself is almost alchemy.
You take awkwardness, mix it with fatigue and fear, add a pinch of absurdity—and it turns into lightness. A lightness that allows you to move forward without hiding behind a mask.

I've decided: I'll laugh more often.
Not because it's fun, but because otherwise it's boring. I'll laugh at my mistakes, at the refrigerator, at situations that defy logic.
I'll laugh, even if the world is silent.

Because only in this chaos, in this laughter, and these little absurd moments, do I feel alive. 🌈
And maybe that's what true freedom is—not living for someone else, but living for yourself, laughing at every step.