There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in

Everything moves at once - the beauty, the chaos, the endless scroll of ordinary miracles. It’s difficult to find stillness in a world that never quiets. We try to make sense of it, even as sense itself starts to feel outdated. Still, we keep reaching for something that feels like meaning, knowing how strange that is.Perhaps clarity is overrated. Perhaps all we can do is notice - the absurd tenderness of it all, the humor tucked inside the exhaustion. There’s a kind of grace in continuing, in staying open to what shouldn’t make sense but somehow does.Beauty doesn’t erase despair; it coexists with it, refracting it into something momentary and real. So we stay awake. We find light where it lands - uneven, imperfect, a little ridiculous, and completely real.