The grind. The pace. The productivity loop.
Every day filled. Every week blurred.
Success measured in output. Presence punished as weakness.
This is the island where:
Busyness is worn like armor
Exhaustion is expected
Love, Joy, Spontaneity is optional… a footnote
And the dream you started with… is a shadow you barely remember
But deep down, something’s been stirring.
The voice inside? Still whispering.
There has to be more than this.