A few weeks ago, something stirred in me…quiet, but certain. A whisper, almost. A pull toward something old and sacred. So, I followed it. I ordered a quill-tip pen set, deep black ink, heavy paper that begged to be held, wax sticks, stamps, and a seal set that felt like it belonged to another century.

I didn’t entirely know why. Still don’t, really. But when I sit down to write, everything slows. The noise of the world fades. It’s not quite journaling, though it feels just as intimate. I’m writing to someone…but maybe I’m also writing to myself.

In a world that moves faster than thought, where a message can cross the globe in an instant…there’s something beautifully tender, almost rebellious, about knowing that my words will take their time. That they’ll travel. That they’ll arrive long after the moment they were born. And maybe that’s the magic… the waiting. The intentionality. The romance of being heard, eventually. 🤍

#grownostr #youvegotmail #nostr