this piece carries a deep meaning for me—i’d suggest opening the link before reading the rest -> https://youtube.com/watch?v=9ycs4uPDy1A the journey here strays far from the idiom’s usual connotation. normally, it refers to hidden shames or buried sins. but what i felt while creating this piece wasn’t quite that. the skeleton here -> are forgotten moments, or maybe the unforgettable ones. people, memories, and emotions i once loved, lost or buried within myself. they’re neither fully remembered nor completely forgotten. the door only cracks open. sometimes they arrive with music, sometimes with silence, sometimes with a scent. when you face those moments, you sometimes want to look razor-sharp. you throw on your freshly shaved face and your crisply ironed suit. hand in your pocket, acting like nothing’s wrong. you think you’ve played it cool—but your emotions have already slipped out. your eyes won’t let it pass. your lips won’t either. inside that suit, your skin bristles with goosebumps. when the closet door opens, you see faces you weren’t ready for. some are there to make you smile. some to make you ache. some just want to be remembered. some are flickering, waiting to be recalled. here the mic extends to you—when that door creaks open, what do you do? do you escape while trying to look strong? do you wrestle with your thoughts? or do you surrender to those moments? i went through a different kind of process while creating this piece. the result took me out of myself. i left all my feelings on the table. i hope when each of our closets creaks open, we remember those moments—and we reconnect with them. ——everyone has a skeleton in their closet.