Toute la pluie tombe sur moi (All the rain falls on me)

It’s not always about shining.

Sometimes the truest moments happen when the lights go out and only the sound of rain remains falling, steady, without audience or applause.

While others search for shelter, conversation, or validation, some choose to stay outside, to get drenched, and to listen.

Because in that soaked silence, the noise dissolves, and a voice appears.

Not the one that wants to be heard, but the one that needs to speak even if no one is listening.

Maybe launching a magazine isn’t a social act after all, but an act of resistance.

A quiet way of saying: I don’t need to belong to exist.

The creator who walks alone under the rain knows there is no trick, no stage, only path, water, and conviction.

And when all the rain falls on him, he understands it’s not punishment.

It’s baptism.

— Round Circle, Join the Circle