Sometimes my thoughts go deeper than I expect. In moments of silence, I catch myself thinking about meaning — not the grand, philosophical kind, but something personal. What makes a person genuine? Why do some encounters leave a mark while others pass by unnoticed? And is it even possible to truly understand yourself without going through reflection, mistakes, and small inner crises? I think about how every emotion — even the heavy ones — builds something within me. That fear can be a teacher, loneliness a space for growth, and doubt a doorway to honesty with myself. Sometimes it seems to me that depth isn’t about complicated words, but about being able to hear your own silence. To feel where your soul pulls you and to allow yourself to go there, even when the path isn’t lit yet. And the more I reflect, the more I realize: the deepest things are simple. To be honest. To be alive. To be yourself, even if that path is not the easiest one.

I dream as boldly as I live — wide, fearless, unafraid to step beyond any boundary. Sometimes my dreams seem too loud for those who are used to a quiet life, but to me they are like a map of the road I’m drawing for myself. I dream of finding something that sets my heart on fire. Not just a job, but a calling where I feel needed, alive, real. I want to try, fail, start over — until I find that one place where my inner voice will say, “This is it.” I dream of seeing the world: big cities, small streets, people who think differently. Traveling isn’t about photos for me — it’s about expanding myself, about feeling that the world is vast and I can become part of its many voices. And I also dream of inner confidence — not the loud kind, but the quiet, steady one. I want to look back one day and tell myself: “You were brave. You weren’t afraid to search.” Because all my dreams are, in essence, promises to become the person I want to be.

Sometimes my thoughts run faster than I do. They flare up suddenly — like sparks when two stones collide. I can be walking down the street, listening to music, and inside me a new idea, a question, or a desire to change something is already being born. My thoughts are often about the future — not about what should be, but what could be. I think about which way to turn, how to find my path, what to try next. Sometimes it feels like an inner dialogue, sometimes like a light chaos, but it’s exactly from that chaos that decisions appear. There are moments when I doubt myself: whether I’m doing the right thing, whether I’m trying hard enough, whether I’m going in the right direction. But there is strength in these doubts — they push me to move forward, to look for answers that no one can give me except myself.

My name is Simona 18yo, standing at the threshold of my own path — without textbooks, schedules, or familiar reference points. Sometimes it scares me, but more often it excites me with a sense of adventure. I wake up in the morning and feel the world calling me somewhere: into a new idea, a new city, a conversation with an interesting person. I’m not studying at a university — for now. I’m learning from life itself: catching experiences like wind in my hands. I try different things, changing directions as freely as the music in my playlist. People say that at my age I should already know what I want, but I like this freedom — the chance to choose anew every single day. I believe an active life stance isn’t about loud slogans but about the ability to act: to help, to suggest, to support, to begin. Sometimes I doubt myself, but doubts simply remind me that I’m alive and searching. And while someone else puts a period, I place a comma — and keep moving toward my true self.