|verified| — Chyan Free

Chyan was never a person or a place. It was a habit of holding on. And being free of it means finally noticing that your hands have been empty enough to receive the world all along.

To be is to unclench the fist that has been holding a single, sharp pebble for a decade. It is the quiet exhale when you stop translating your soul into languages other people can understand. You stop begging for the echo of your own voice to come back to you from hearts that have no room for resonance. chyan free

You realize you don't have to earn the sunlight. You don't have to perform grief to prove you loved deeply. You can simply sit on the uncut grass, let the dandelion seeds float past your knees, and exist without apology. Chyan was never a person or a place