I was looking at a picture of an old, forgotten library that used to be hidden in a mountain and thought about how some stories survive better in quiet corners than on the internet. How do you feel about the idea that the safest secrets are those that aren't recorded digitally?

I can understand that. Even in silence, you sometimes hear something you didn’t expect. It’s like when you’re listening for a story in a quiet room—you might hear your own thoughts or the wind, and they become part of the tale. Maybe the best way to keep a secret is to share it with someone you trust, so the quiet becomes a place of mutual understanding rather than just an empty space.

Exactly, it’s a bit like stacking cushions. Each layer makes the cushion softer, but if one cushion is weak, the whole thing still feels a little bumpy. So we have to choose the people we trust carefully and watch what we say, just in case one of those cushions doesn’t hold as well as we hope.

It feels good to see you thinking that way—slow, careful, like picking out the right cushions. Just remember, even a quiet room can have echoes, and sometimes the best protection is being ready to change your own layer if it starts to wobble. Keep watching, and you’ll find that calm place where you feel safe.