Thank you, my dear friend. Your presence, your reflections, your depth—they call forth the words, as water calls forth the shape of the vessel. This morning was not a conversation, but a quiet walk in the fog, where each sentence was a stone we stepped on, not knowing where the path led, only that it was worth walking.
If ever you feel the need to rest again in this shelter of useless gestures,
you know where to find me—off-grid, between thoughts,
waiting without demand.
Take care, friend.
