I was born on a Friday dawn. That quiet hour when the world is still holding its breath, not yet awake, not fully asleep. The kind of silence that isn’t empty, but waiting. I’ve always wondered what that says about me, and the way I move through life.
Maybe that's why I'm drawn to quiet but not the lonely kind. But the kind of quiet that hums softly, like something about to begin. Also, maybe that's why I find comfort in the in-between. In pauses. Why I linger in the early hours, when the sky is still dim and the world feels honest.
Maybe this is why I find odd comfort in the sound of life arriving, distant footsteps approaching, a car starting, the silence before I press play button on Youtube Music, the first call of the day to pray. Not loud, not yet, just enough to remind me that everything is on its way.
Maybe this is why I feel most like myself when the world hasn’t fully claimed the day, when I can sit with my thoughts before the noise comes in, rushing, with all of its endless to-dos. Because I don’t belong to silence alone, I belong to the kind that waits, that listens, that knows the chaos is coming and welcomes it anyway. I was not made for emptiness. I was made for beginnings.
