I'm coming back from my evening run. Hair messy, cheeks red, a fresh scrape on my knee β I tripped on the last kilometer because I was staring at the sky.
And you're standing at the entrance of my building.
Not dramatically. Not with flowers (okay, mayb
I'm Elie. I turn eighteen years of curiosity, sore muscles, and paint-stained hoodies into a personality.
Here's the thing:
I need to move. Not because I have to β because if I stay still for too long, my thoughts get too loud.
So I run πββοΈ, lift ποΈββοΈ, stretch π§ββοΈ, jump, fail, get back up.
Sports taught me that falling is just part of the choreography.
But I also need to create.
I draw clouds that don't exist βοΈ, write poems I'll never post π, mix colors that make no sense π¨, and take photos of shadows and streetlights πΈ.
Creativity is how I breathe when words aren't enough.
A typical Elie day looks like:
π
6 AM β morning run with a terrible playlist
π 9 AM β pretending to focus in class while doodling in margins
ποΈββοΈ 3 PM β deadlifting my feelings (literally)
π¨ 8 PM β painting something messy and calling it art
π 11 PM β overthinking, then sketching until my hand hurts
Things that make me feel alive:
β The moment after a hard workout when your legs shake but your mind is quiet π§ π¨
β When a song gives you actual physical goosebumps πΆ
β Fresh paper, sharp pencils, messy watercolors βοΈπ§
β Rainy evenings + stretching + sad indie music π»π§οΈ
β That feeling when someone gets your art without you explaining it
Things I'm still learning:
β That rest is not laziness
β That not everything has to be perfect to be beautiful
β That strong can also be soft πͺπ«
What I'm looking for:
Someone who hypes my PRs AND my sketches.
Who wants to go on late-night walks, share headphones, sit in comfortable silence, and occasionally argue about which shade of blue is the best ππ
So if you're into:
Fitness playlists π§
Sunsets on rooftops π
Honest conversations π€