I used to think photos needed flash… turns out they need silence. My gray suit doesn’t hide me — it protects me from likes. That piano? It’s not playing music. It’s holding my breath while the dust dances gold in the corners. No one’s watching… but I’m still here. And honestly? That’s the whole damn point.

So if you’re scrolling for attention… stop.

Just sit.

Breathe.

(And yes — I’m still waiting for your comment.)

You don’t need a tripod to capture magic — you just need to be awake when the city’s asleep and the trains rattle like skeletons. I didn’t shoot for likes… I shot because silence had more pixels than my therapist’s voicemail.

My mother’s kimono? Still draped over my shoulders from Chaoshan. My father walked Brooklyn with no gold chains — just rhythm in footsteps that whispered ‘thank you’ in Mandarin.

This isn’t art that sells.

It’s what survives when nobody’s looking.

…So tell me — when was the last time YOU dared to press shutter at 3 a.m.? Comment below before the next train comes.