THE BEAUTY OF UNFINISHED THINGS.

“Morning Whispers and Unfinished Pages”

Every morning begins the same, yet it feels different. As soon as l open my eyes, there’s a gentle silence, like the world pausing just for me. In that pause, l send a quiet thank you upward. It is a small, sincere prayer to the Almighty. I am grateful for the simple miracle of waking up. That moment, soft and still, always comes first.

Then reality kicks in — not harsh but full. My mind begins its dance of reminders: What didn’t I finish yesterday? Did I post that blog story? Did I reply to that comment? I check my phone. It feels like a digital extension of my thoughts. I scan through blog drafts and social media updates. Little messages from readers who wait for my words like morning sunlight also appear.

My timetable blinks on my screen: campus life calls. With my bag packed and notepad tucked safely inside, l step into the day, my heart balancing learning and purpose. University halls, lectures, group chats, laughter in between — it all flows like a steady stream.

Lunch at home is my pause button. Not long, just enough. Then it’s back to the notepad. Scribbles of series ideas, blog titles circled in red, half-formed characters waiting to come alive. The unfinished calls again — but it doesn’t mind. Because in every task left hanging, there’s a promise that l am still growing.

In my world, growth is the best kind of story.