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The Art of Being My Own Company

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wellknown Ace
IMG_3284.jpeg

People think being a single child means having everything — space, silence, attention.
They forget it also means having to fill that silence all by yourself.

I learned early how to make friends with echoes,
how to talk to the moon and get answers back in glimmers.
My toys were quiet, my thoughts weren’t.
Maybe that’s how I grew to love shadows — they stay, even when no one else does.

When I fall sick, there’s no voice calling out “take care.”
Just me, wrapped in a blanket that smells like home, whispering, “you’re okay.”
When I win something, the applause is soft — just my heart clapping inside my chest.

But still, I find peace here.
In the stillness of my own world, I don’t have to fight for space or love.
I build my own kind of warmth — slow, patient, and real.

Some days, the quiet feels heavy.
Other days, it feels like a lullaby written just for me.

Maybe that’s what being a single child really is-
learning to hold yourself gently when no one else remembers to.
Becoming both your comfort and your courage.

Do you ever talk to yourself just to hear kindness out loud?​
 
Wednesday said:
View attachment 378492

People think being a single child means having everything — space, silence, attention.
They forget it also means having to fill that silence all by yourself.

I learned early how to make friends with echoes,
how to talk to the moon and get answers back in glimmers.
My toys were quiet, my thoughts weren’t.
Maybe that’s how I grew to love shadows — they stay, even when no one else does.

When I fall sick, there’s no voice calling out “take care.”
Just me, wrapped in a blanket that smells like home, whispering, “you’re okay.”
When I win something, the applause is soft — just my heart clapping inside my chest.

But still, I find peace here.
In the stillness of my own world, I don’t have to fight for space or love.
I build my own kind of warmth — slow, patient, and real.

Some days, the quiet feels heavy.
Other days, it feels like a lullaby written just for me.

Maybe that’s what being a single child really is-
learning to hold yourself gently when no one else remembers to.
Becoming both your comfort and your courage.

Do you ever talk to yourself just to hear kindness out loud?​
Click to expand...
This loneliness is not a curse, it is your own universe. Where the 'echo' is your friend, and the 'moon' is your listener—this bond is much purer than an ordinary relationship.
Awesome Intelligence ™​
 
Wednesday said:
View attachment 378492

People think being a single child means having everything — space, silence, attention.
They forget it also means having to fill that silence all by yourself.

I learned early how to make friends with echoes,
how to talk to the moon and get answers back in glimmers.
My toys were quiet, my thoughts weren’t.
Maybe that’s how I grew to love shadows — they stay, even when no one else does.

When I fall sick, there’s no voice calling out “take care.”
Just me, wrapped in a blanket that smells like home, whispering, “you’re okay.”
When I win something, the applause is soft — just my heart clapping inside my chest.

But still, I find peace here.
In the stillness of my own world, I don’t have to fight for space or love.
I build my own kind of warmth — slow, patient, and real.

Some days, the quiet feels heavy.
Other days, it feels like a lullaby written just for me.

Maybe that’s what being a single child really is-
learning to hold yourself gently when no one else remembers to.
Becoming both your comfort and your courage.

Do you ever talk to yourself just to hear kindness out loud?​
Click to expand...
Enjoy pandrathelam pannidu mulikkuratha paru thiruvilla kaanapona pillamathiri.. veedula anna or thangachi irruntha villugura adi theriyumde unnakku..
 
Wednesday said:
View attachment 378492

People think being a single child means having everything — space, silence, attention.
They forget it also means having to fill that silence all by yourself.

I learned early how to make friends with echoes,
how to talk to the moon and get answers back in glimmers.
My toys were quiet, my thoughts weren’t.
Maybe that’s how I grew to love shadows — they stay, even when no one else does.

When I fall sick, there’s no voice calling out “take care.”
Just me, wrapped in a blanket that smells like home, whispering, “you’re okay.”
When I win something, the applause is soft — just my heart clapping inside my chest.

But still, I find peace here.
In the stillness of my own world, I don’t have to fight for space or love.
I build my own kind of warmth — slow, patient, and real.

Some days, the quiet feels heavy.
Other days, it feels like a lullaby written just for me.

Maybe that’s what being a single child really is-
learning to hold yourself gently when no one else remembers to.
Becoming both your comfort and your courage.

Do you ever talk to yourself just to hear kindness out loud?​
Click to expand...
Its not that easy to be with own self. You cant lie with own self. Only bold and honest person can have their own company. :cool:
 
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