Maybe we make it harderthan it needs to be. We often expect peopleto see things the way we do.To react the way we would.To understand what we meanwithout us having to explain it. But we are not made the same. We have different values,different backgrounds,different experiences,di
How many times did you hold your phoneand never make the call? How many messagesdid you write and never send? How many timesdid you want to say something but stayed quiet?How many things did you walk away frombefore they even had a chance to happen? Maybe you were afraid they wou
Maybe it’s someoneyou haven’t spoken toin a long time. Maybe it’s someoneyou still talk to every day,but somehowit doesn’t sound the same anymore. Maybe it’s your own voicefrom a timewhen you didn’t think so muchbefore speaking. The strange thing about voicesis that t
Saturday, April 4 Sometimes, everything changes in a second. What felt stable… breaks.What felt certain… disappears. And for a moment,you lose control. You lose clarity. But not everything is meant to stay the same. What mattersis what remains. Your direction. Your Traguardo.
Friday, March 27 You don’t hear it growing. There’s no noise.No sign. Nothing that tells youit’s happening. And still… something is changing. Maybe you don’t see it yet. Maybe you don’t feel it yet. But it’s there. Slowly.Quietly. Just like this tree. And maybewe’
Wednesday, March 25 Everything in lifearrives at the right time. Not when you force it.Not when you rush it. Sometimes… it’s not about losing it. It’s just not yours yet. Some things can’t be chased. They can only be found. — Fuerpa Slow Journal
Sunday, March 22 Some things are not just made. They are felt. Some things…have their own light. And somehow… they find their wayto the right person. Splendore, by Fuerpa
No matter how far life takes me, no matter how much I grow, or how much I change… there is one place that never moves. It’s not a house. It’s not a city. It’s you. That quiet place where I don’t have to be perfect. Where my mistakes don’t define me. Where I’m still
This little house looks like it was made for children. Small walls. Bright colors. A tiny door. And yet— to a child, nothing feels small. It feels big. It feels endless. It feels like the whole world can live inside it. I grew up in a small house too. Old walls. Simple rooms. W
Some steps are quiet. Not because there is nothing inside, but because not everything needs to be spoken. We carry thoughts, memories, questions, things that shape us without making noise. Not every journey is loud. Not every strength is visible. And sometimes the deepest parts o
