the language of empty spaces ༺☆༻

Have you ever walked into a room that isn’t yours and felt like it was waiting to tell you a story?

An empty room is never really empty. It’s full of echoes—footsteps that once paced back and forth, whispers shared in the dark, laughter that ricocheted off the walls and left behind a trace.

I love hotel rooms for this reason. They’re transient, liminal, a canvas for a hundred fleeting lives. I once stayed in a tiny, sunlit one with a crack in the ceiling shaped like a heart. I spent hours lying on the bed, tracing its outline, imagining the people who had been there before me. Did they notice it too?

There’s something sacred about being in a space where no one is watching. You can exist as you are, no performance, no pretense. Just you and the quiet.

xoxo evie ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹