Something felt off, out of nowhere. I asked. It got sorted.
Then, out of nowhere again, something pulled at my curiosity. I asked. That got sorted too.
Having a question and being curious feel similar, somehow. And also different.
Having a question — not taking things at face value. Thinking it through myself.
Being curious — that spark. The push to try.
No questions, and thinking never grows. No curiosity, and imagination stays small.
Both, in the end.
Maybe it’s just about balance.
A day that started with a question, and ended here.