

I know you said you're F.I.N.E. (okay), but truly — how are you when the day concludes and the lights dim? When the world ceases its demands, and there's no one left to persuade that you're managing everything perfectly.
How do you feel when you're lying in bed, surrounded by the silence that knows too much? When the solitude that disregards how many people care for you sneaks in regardless. Do you still bear the burden of things you promised to release? The things you no longer discuss.
Do your bills acknowledge your dreams? The ones you tucked away in a drawer because the world had no room for them. Or have they also learnt to remain silent — just like you?
And your job… does it satisfy you, or merely occupy the hours? Is it your passion, or just enough distraction to silence the questions your heart persistently asks — the ones you can't answer?
And tell me, has anyone stayed long enough to show that not everyone departs? Or have you learnt to keep your bags ready, just in case?
How are you now that you've mastered the art of getting by but forgotten how to genuinely live?
I know you said you're F.I.N.E. (okay). But are you, truly?


