There's a kind of courage that doesn't roar, doesn't announce itself at the door. It wakes at dawn when the body aches, pulls on shoes for another day's sake. Silent warriors, those who rise, when rising feels like telling lies, who speak when your voice starts to shake, who try when failure's all at stake. The world celebrates the loud— medals hung and cheering crowds. But what about the quiet ones who fight their battles far from the sun? The student who will ask the question, the friend who shares their dark confession, the person who will start again after falling time and ten. Courage isn't always loud and bright, sometimes it's a whisper in the night. It's showing up when things get hard, choosing truth though you're left scarred, standing firm when you could bend, reaching out to make amends. Silent warrior, hear this call— your strength isn't in standing tall, but in the ground you choose to hold, the quiet stories left untold. The bravest thing you'll ever do is to keep on going, seeing through, keep believing through the fight, in what you cannot see—your light.
a school entry from a while ago lol
