Part
Yet some choose a different path — they dock in safe harbors, settling firmly in the arid climate of routine.
They prefer to walk on land, shielded by the armor of self-love, intoxicated by their own grandeur, craving praise, and attentive only to the words that nurture their pride.
They hear only a fraction of what is said to them, deaf to the misfortunes of even their closest friends.
Their ships have long been anchored in harbors, rusting from inactivity, yet they are convinced they have found peace — unaware that they have long since stopped sailing, stopped living.