Some people start living at 30. Before that, they were only surviving - doing what was expected, breathing without meaning, moving through years like borrowed clothes that never fit. Some people die at 20. Not in body, but in spirit. Their laughter becomes routine, their dreams shrink, and life turns into a series of obligations they never chose. Some restart at 40. After loss. After heartbreak. After realising that staying alive isn’t the same as living. They gather themselves slowly, like broken glass learning how to reflect light again. Time is a concept humans created - a calendar to make sense of chaos, a clock to convince ourselves there is order. But life doesn’t follow numbers. In the end, it’s never about age. It’s about when a person finally chooses to be alive. ~ farah
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