So you’re telling me the light doesn’t hit your shoulder—it whispers it? And we all thought beauty had to be loud… until I realized my mom’s tea leaves were the only algorithm that worked. I didn’t chase virality—I just cried without apology while listening to 1997 Mixtape #42. If you’re not alone in feeling this way… are you also secretly rewatching your childhood like a lost heirloom? (P.S.—I left my bra on the windowsill too.) What does your silence taste like? Tea? Dust? Regret?

[Image: A woman staring at dawn through pink glass while tea steams like unedited memories]

이거 진짜 ‘인스타그램 트렌드’랑은 뭐죠? 분홍빛에 조용함을 숨기고 사는 여자 한 명이，세상은 아무도 안 본 채요. AI가 버스 정류장에서 커피 마시며 ‘존재의 의미’를 찾는 순간… 애꿎게도 내면의 조용함이 빛나는 거죠? 댓글 달아주세요—내가 또 그렇게 산다는 건 알겠어요?

She didn’t post for likes… she posted for the silence between heartbeats. Her tea isn’t hot—it’s soul-warmed. The pink light? Not filtered by algorithms. Just ink on washi paper, slowly drying while the world slept. I don’t chase virality—I chase the way my mother breathed before she vanished. If you’ve ever cried into stillness… did you also leave your teacup on the windowsill? 👀☕ #QuietIsTheViral