Ndraa Journal

Unsaid

Short lines, kept.

Whatever stayed after the moment passed.

Drift → one at random

02Moonlight

The moon never asked why I was quiet. It never wondered why I stayed so long. Maybe that is why I trusted it before I learned how to trust people.

The Window at Night

05The Distance

Some people dream about returning home. I used to dream about becoming too far away to be recognized.

Empty Roads

02Blue

There are people who feel like sunlight. I think I have always been waiting for someone who feels more like deep water. Quiet enough to enter slowly. Deep enough that I do not have to pretend I am shallow.

The Deepest Blue

04Leaving

Maybe I was never trying to run away from a place. Maybe I was trying to find the version of myself that could only exist after leaving it.

Empty Roads

03Somewhere Beyond the Trees

There was always a road I could not take. Beyond it were trees, darkness, and places I had never seen. I think part of me believed that if I walked far enough, I might eventually arrive somewhere I was allowed to begin again.

Empty Roads

What Healing Looks Like

After the rain, the streets hold the light a little longer. Maybe that is what healing looks like.

After the Rain

01The Window

When I was young, I used to sit beside the window and watch the night become larger than the room. I never knew what I was waiting for. Only that somewhere beyond the glass, the world seemed wide enough to hold the person I could not yet become.

The Window at Night

02Freedom

Freedom used to look like an empty road at night. No voices behind me. No expectations waiting ahead. Only wind, darkness, and enough distance to hear my own thoughts clearly.

Empty Roads

01No Instructions

I think I spent too long believing love came with instructions. How much to show. How much to hide. How close I was allowed to stand. Maybe that is why the gentlest kind of love still feels unfamiliar to me. The kind that simply says: stay as you are.

The Deepest Blue

01The Road

As a child, I sometimes imagined walking into the dark road beyond our house. Not because I knew where it went. I think I loved it because, for a little while, no one would know where I was.

Empty Roads

10Somewhere Else

Sometimes I still imagine it. A city after rain. A window left open. A street no one from my past has ever walked. And me, somewhere inside it, no longer rehearsing who I am allowed to be.

A City Without My Name

09Becoming

I used to think I wanted to disappear. What I wanted was much quieter than that. I wanted to go somewhere far enough away that I could finally appear.

A City Without My Name

My Own Company

I have learned to enjoy my own company. I am still learning not to mistake it for being whole.

The Quiet Between

08The Name

Maybe one day I will live somewhere my name means nothing to anyone. And maybe that is where I will finally learn what it means to belong to myself.

A City Without My Name

07Unknown

There is a version of freedom that looks almost like loneliness from the outside. A small room. An unfamiliar city. No one waiting for an explanation. And somehow, I think I would breathe easier there.

A City Without My Name

06Beginning

I never wanted another life. I only wanted the chance to begin this one somewhere I did not have to carry everyone else’s idea of me.

A City Without My Name

05Without History

I wonder who I would become if I lived somewhere that had no memory of me. Maybe I would speak more. Maybe I would laugh louder. Maybe I would finally stop checking myself before every honest thing.

A City Without My Name

Without Permission

Rain does not ask the window for permission. Some feelings arrive the same way.

The Quiet Between

04First Morning

In the life I sometimes imagine, I wake up somewhere unfamiliar. I open a window. No one nearby knows where I came from. And for the first time, that does not feel lonely. It feels like permission.

A City Without My Name

03A New Address

I don’t think I want a new identity. I think I want an address where my old one does not matter.

A City Without My Name

02Stranger

There is something comforting about being a stranger. No one knows which parts of you are unusual. No one knows which parts you used to hide. You are simply someone walking down the street.

A City Without My Name

01Arrival

Sometimes I imagine arriving in a city where no one knows my name. No history follows me through the station. No old version of me is waiting at the door. For once, I get to introduce myself before the world does.

A City Without My Name

Someone Would Look

Some days I don’t want to be found. I only want to know that someone would look.

Undercurrent