π©π€πͺ γ π»ππ π°πππππππ ππ π¨ππππππ γ
π©π€πͺ γ π»ππ π°πππππππ ππ π¨ππππππ γ
We turned life into a race
and mistook being ahead for being fulfilled.
Now we keep climbing,
comparing our paths to everyone elseβs,
afraid that slowing down means falling behind.
But what if no one is truly ahead?
What if weβre all just lost
on different curves of the same endless road?
πππΈ