The question never stops

✨ Are we perfect?

😊 Are we happy?

💔Are we sad?

👍Are we good?

🚀 Can we be more?

🎯 Should we try to do it all?

❤️They don’t always sound right. The words can be broken, twisted, unsure. But they come from somewhere deep. From a place where we don’t speak with rules—we speak with feeling. These aren’t just questions. They’re whispers. Echoes. They rise up from the quiet spaces we don’t always visit. They don’t care about grammar. They speak the language of the heart. And once they begin, they never truly stop. They settle inside us. They change shape. They grow louder, then softer. But they stay.

We’ve been asking since the beginning. Not just with our mouths. With our choices. Our doubts. Our quiet nighttime thoughts when the world feels still and heavy. We ask when we look at our own reflection and wonder who’s really staring back. We ask in tears we don’t fully understand. In the laughter that surprises us. In the hugs we sometimes don’t feel worthy of.

❤️Are we perfect?

No. And maybe that’s not a flaw. Maybe it’s our first real truth. We’re not marble statues or untouchable dreams. We’re messy. We’re scarred. We carry regrets like old songs, and hopes like fragile paper boats. But our cracks tell stories. And those stories are full of life. We are real, and maybe that’s more sacred than perfect could ever be.

❤️ Are we happy?

Sometimes, yes. But not always. Happiness doesn’t live with us—it visits. It flickers in and out like fireflies. It comes in small, almost invisible moments. A kind word. A familiar smell. A silence that doesn’t feel empty. We try so hard to hold onto it, to chase it, but it can’t be caught. It finds us when we stop running.

❤️ Are we sad?

Yes. Often more than we admit. And that sadness isn’t something broken—it’s something true. It means we’ve loved. That we’ve lost. That we’ve hoped for things we didn’t get. It hurts, yes. But it also opens us. Makes us softer. Makes us real. When we let sadness sit with us, when we stop fearing it, we make space for healing to enter.

❤️Are we good?

We ask ourselves that all the time. And maybe the answer isn’t simple. Goodness isn’t about being right. It’s about trying. About showing up. About choosing kindness even when it’s easier not to. It’s in the small things—helping, listening, forgiving, loving. We become good not by being perfect, but by choosing love over and over again.

❤️ Can we do this?

We can. Even when we feel too tired, too broken, too small. We’ve survived more than we thought we could. We’ve started over when we thought we couldn’t move. We are more than our fear, more than our past. We have the power to begin again. To build again. To love again. We always have.

❤️ Should we do it all?

No. We don’t have to. That’s not what strength means. We don’t need to carry the whole world on our shoulders. We just need to carry what matters. The rest can wait. We’re allowed to choose rest. To choose peace. To choose what lights us up instead of what wears us down.

Our mind isn’t a machine to be fixed—it’s a garden to be tended. And these questions that come and go? They are the rain. They are the weather that shapes us. Confusing. Beautiful. Necessary.

The questions keep coming.

And so do we.

We break, we bend, but still we bloom.

We fall, we fade, but still we rise.