There was a time I thought my mind had simply... wandered off.
Not in the dramatic sense. It didn’t vanish into a dark void or explode into chaos. It just drifted — like smoke through a cracked window, unnoticed at first, then quietly, completely gone.
I’d spend hours scrolling. My fingers moved, but my thoughts didn’t. Mornings bled into afternoons. My to-do list stared at me blankly, and I stared back with the same expression.
And in the background? Music. Always something playing — viral sounds, motivational loops, synthetic beats from people who never met silence.
One night, at 2:14 a.m., I realized I hadn’t had a single original thought all day.
That was when I found it. Or maybe… it found me.
The Genius Wave.
But I didn’t need to understand it. I just needed something to help me feel again. To focus. To return.
So I listened.
And somewhere around the third minute, it felt like someone had cracked open a window inside my skull. The fog didn’t leave all at once — it slowly thinned, like mist dissolving in early sunlight.
My thoughts came back. First a trickle. Then a river.
I started writing again. Reading again. Sitting still with no need to fill the silence. I remembered how ideas used to feel. That weightless lift when inspiration knocks and you actually hear it.
Now it’s part of my ritual. Seven minutes. Headphones on. Eyes closed. No expectations.
Just a quiet conversation between my brain and something ancient inside it — like a lighthouse guiding a tired ship home.
If you're feeling scattered, lost, or like your mind's been living on airplane mode... maybe try listening.
And maybe — just maybe — it’s the sound that will find you too.
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