There are days to talk about feeling unnecessary. Not because there is nothing to say, but because silence has its own language. A language that does not need explanations, which does not seek to convince anyone.Today I sat in my favorite place, with a cup of coffee in my hands, and I simply let the world speak for itself. The wind, the city, the clock tic-tac. Everything had something to say, and for the first time in a long time, I decided to listen.Sometimes, silence is not empty. It is the echo of everything we carry inside.
It has always fascinated me how the connection with someone can arise without the need for words. In my space, every look, every gesture, each pause has a meaning. It is not just showing me, it is transmitting sensations, playing with desire, complicity, mystery.Sometimes, I wonder what they see in me who watch me on the other side of the screen. Is the physicist? The attitude? Or simply the way I look at them and make them feel that, for a moment, we only exist?For me, this goes beyond a show. It is art, it is chemical, it is a story that is written in seconds and fades in the memory of who lived it. And if I look at you and smile, it is because I know that, in some way, at this moment, my thoughts belong to you.
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