Scribbler Jez

It's All Soul's Day.

Let me share a piece, something we never knew we desired.

This is for the heart that longs for something it cannot quite grasp.

For the quiet yearning that lingers between memory and absence, for the ache of what once was, and the warmth that time could never erase.

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SEARCHING THE SILENCE

In the quiet spaces between moments,
we listen for echoes.
Not the sharp, immediate sounds,
but the faint traces of things once felt—
love once known, identities once worn, memories that slip through our fingers like sand.

We are often left searching
for fragments of ourselves,
for whispers of those we’ve loved,
for dreams abandoned in the rush of life.

What is it that lingers?
What calls us back to places we’ve left behind?

In every loss, something remains.

Echoes—those faint,
distant reverberations of time—
hold stories of what we’ve lost and
what we may still find.

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Disclaimer: This is the work of Scribbler Jez. Do not copy.

LETTER 4: To the Waves that Never Rest

Dear You,

Do you know that when my mind and heart are restless, I go to the seashore and gaze at the horizon? Watching the waves calms my thoughts. The sea breeze soothes my soul.

It's my safe place. My haven I will always choose when I'm dreary. A comfort place when I'm too fed up with my parents nagging and high expectations.

I often wonder, why are they like that? Did they experience the same growing up? Were they pressured by their own parents the way they pressure me? Were they burdened by the same expectations, the same constant criticism, and the same harsh punishments when they failed, even a little?

Are they, perhaps, products of generational trauma? Have they unconsciously or consciously passed down the pain they endured as teenagers, now inflicting it on me?

It’s strange to me, you know. Growing up, I didn’t see much love or care. It was always about what I should do.
“You should do this.”
“You should do that.”
“You should be better, if not the best.”

It was always about meeting expectations—following the rules, even if it went against what I wanted or aspired to be.

A small mistake was met with a slap in the face, relentless scolding, and words that cut deep, telling me how worthless I was.

It planted seeds of insecurity, piling up negative emotions until they felt ready to explode.

It led to low self-esteem and the constant, haunting question:
Am I not enough?

It pushed me to build impossible expectations for myself, believing I had to be the best. And when I strayed even slightly from the perfect path, I blamed myself over and over again.

But I’ve come to realize this mindset is a trap. It blinds you—like it blinded me—to the truth:
I don’t need anyone else’s validation.
I don’t need to be the best.
I don’t need to prove my worth to anyone.

Because I am already worthy.

I am worthy because He gives me my worth. It comes from Him, and nothing can take that away.

Yes, I may be a product of generational trauma inflicted by my parents. But I want to be the breaker—the healer who ends it.

For now, though, let me quiet my thoughts.

Let me lay it all down—to the waves that listen, to the waves that never rest.

Sincerely,
Alon

Disclaimer: This is the work of Scribbler Jez. Do not copy.