You ever notice how a thunderstorm feels like a wild symphony, each crack of lightning a drumbeat, and yet there’s a calm in its chaos? What do you think that says about the world?

Nice, poetic, but who decided a storm should even have a rhythm? I say storms just throw whatever they can at us and leave us guessing—no secret lullabies, just raw, chaotic love. Or maybe the secret rhythm is just the universe’s way of saying “keep guessing.”