I was not lost.
I was beginning.

This journey didn’t begin suddenly.
It started quietly—four years ago—when a chain of soul-shaking events stirred something inside me.
I didn’t know what it was, but I felt it rising.
I began to observe, to search, to listen more carefully to the silence within me.
I watched videos, read, questioned. And then… the nights changed.

I started waking up before dawn— always at the same times: 03:36, 4:41, 05:30.
Every awakening felt like a calling. A whisper from deep within, telling me:
“Wake up. It’s a quarter to finding yourself.”

In July of 2024,
I made a decision that I knew would pull me into darkness. Or maybe the decision made me.

I found myself falling—
not by accident, but by necessity—into a silent, unseen well.
And in its depth,
I was not lost.
I was beginning.

But for the final leap—for the full awakening—my soul still needed one last spark.
And it drew it to itself like a magnet.
A karmic test.
A reminder.

And when that great collision came everything cracked open.
And I entered the final phase of my transformation—
my awakening.

This painting is not an ending. It is the quiet manifesto of a soul lost in its own shadow, and reborn through that very darkness.

Every brushstroke carries the weight of pain, but also the seeds of clarity.
It is not a story.
It is my becoming.

I willingly stepped into that abyss—perhaps the bravest step I’ve ever taken.
A place beyond time and space, where darkness and light meet on the thinnest thread of existence.

And now, as I rise from that well—rebuilt, rewired, reborn—I realize that every step,
every wound,
every shadow
brought me home to myself.

These days, my friends say:
“You’re changing. You’re healing. It shows.”

They’re right.

I’m back.