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Journal — 5:04 AM Thursday, January 1st, 2026 Happy New Year 2026. I am still 24. — Mushk Entry 5 AM feels like a doorway. Not open, not closed — just waiting for me to decide what kind of person I am becoming. The world is quiet in that strange New Year way, where even the air feels like it’s holding its breath. And here I am, awake before the sun, writing my name like a promise. Still 24.Still learning how to hold myself without shrinking. Still choosing softness without letting anyone mistake it for weakness. Still carrying fire without letting it burn me from the inside. There’s something beautiful about starting a year in the dark like the universe is giving me a blank page before the light arrives. A chance to write myself into the day before the day writes itself onto me. I don’t know what this year will bring. But I know what I’m bringing into it: A spine made of boundaries. A heart that refuses to apologize for feeling deeply. And a name — Mushk — that I’m finally claiming without regret If this is the first sentence of my year, then let it be this: I am here. I am becoming. And I am not done yet.