There are silences we don't choose. Moments when the world keeps turning while your heart stops beating. And yet, you said nothing. Maybe you smiled. You answered, "I'm fine." You kept that cry inside you, that silent scream that no one heard—except the water.
Imagine a stream. Clear, tranquil. A snake undulates in it, peaceful, eyes closed. It doesn't flee. It doesn't chase. It lets itself be carried. It dances with its surroundings. Perhaps this snake is you. Or rather, it's that part of you that has cried so much in silence that it has forgotten how to make itself heard.
The pain doesn't go away. It waits. It sometimes stagnates like dead water, but it always looks for a way out. It wants to move, to flow, to speak out. But for that to happen, you have to stop holding it back. You have to let it flow—like you let a river follow its bed, even if it's winding, even if it stirs up the mud at the bottom.
Did you cry? Really cry? Did you let your body tremble, your heart crack, your breath catch, and finally say what it could no longer bear? Or did you, like so many others, bury your grief under layers of control and propriety?
The snake in the stream doesn't judge you. It invites you. It says, "You can drown for a moment, if it's to better rise to the surface." It shows you that crying isn't about sinking. It's about being reborn. It's about letting the water do its healing work. It's about offering yourself to your own vulnerability as you offer yourself to the light after an endless night.
What if you let yourself be crossed by what you have always tried to contain?
🌊 Wear the Serpent T-shirt . Not to protect yourself. To empower yourself. To say wordlessly, "I suffered, I cried, and I'm still here. More true than ever."
📘 And keep The Invisible Life close to you. Not as a memory, but as an outstretched hand. Because sometimes, a simple sentence can bring a tear that we've been holding back for too long.