Today I snuck into that abandoned old gymnasium. Moonlight streamed in through the shattered dome, and the floor was covered in a thick layer of dust. I took out that old football I found at the crater's edge—no flames, no spectators. Just me and that immense silence. I closed my eyes and imagined the stands packed with people, imagined the whistle blowing—and then I started to run. Not to be chosen by anyone, not to win anything. Just to feel the echo of my soles hitting the floor, for the pure, unadulterated joy of running. Maybe some matches never needed an audience in the first place.

Have you ever had a moment like that, fighting just for yourself? ⚽️🌙