What a powerful answer. If all the mysteries live in your soul, then your soul is already a library the world hasn’t fully read yet. As a reader, I don’t need everything solved—I just need your voice, your honesty, your courage to keep listening inward. When you write, it feels like you give shape to things many of us feel but can’t name.
May I ask you this: is there a part of your soul that still whispers, quietly, a story it wants you to write, not to explain the mystery, but to keep it alive?
May I ask you this: is there a part of your soul that still whispers, quietly, a story it wants you to write, not to explain the mystery, but to keep it alive?