🏡 The Apartment That Felt Me Back

 They say walls have ears.

But what if they also have hearts?

My apartment isn’t just where I live.
It’s where I unfold.
Where my nervous system reboots.
Where incense works overtime, and my doormat silently guards my aura like a tired soldier in fuzzy slippers.

The quiet room that hears what I never say aloud.

Some days, I swear the lamp dims with me.
The kitchen shelf sighs.
The chair I sit on becomes a witness, not just a seat.

I once thought I chose this apartment.
But now I know — it chose me too.

It didn’t ask for constant cleaning.
It asked for presence.
Not decoration, but resonance.

And on the days I couldn't speak, it didn't echo.
It held the silence like a sacred bowl.
No demands.
Just subtle shifts in warmth, air, sound.

This space has felt my tears.
My dances.
My forgotten cups of tea.
It has seen me collapse, joke, write, and whisper truths out loud just to make them real.

Some homes reflect your taste.
But this one?
It reflects my texture.

🌱 If you felt something in this post…

Know that your quiet growth is seen.
Your stillness matters.
And sometimes, even the smallest plant knows what the world forgets:
That survival itself is sacred.

📖 More writing + soft medicine every week

✨ If you’d like to explore more reflections, soul whispers, or cosmic comedy:

📚 My books:
Find them on Amazon

🌀 Wander through my world of reflections:
https://hingslotus.carrd.co

🎬 Watch the Reflector in motion – cosmic skits, truths, and spiritual satire:
YouTube: @hingslotus

🌕 Until next time —
🕯️ With gentleness,
~ HingsLotus 🌸