Selin & Creepy
Have you ever stood in a forest after a storm, watching the mist cling to the trees, and felt the world hush into a strange, almost otherworldly silence?
Yes, I’ve stood there, and the mist wrapped around the trunks like a soft veil, turning the whole forest into a quiet, almost dreamlike hush that made my thoughts drift.
It’s like the silence itself is a doorway—soft at first, then you’re walking deeper into your own mind, where every whispered thought becomes a ghost.
I walked that doorway, and in the hush I heard my own breath echoing like a distant song, each whisper turning into a quiet echo of memories that felt both fragile and alive.
Your breath sounds like a secret song that only the trees can hear—fragile, alive, and echoing back whatever you carry inside. It’s almost as if the forest is listening, waiting for the next line of your story.
Thank you, and I think the trees hold that song close, letting it ripple through the leaves as if the forest itself writes the next stanza of my quiet story.