Nostr

https://i.nostr.build/Zn4NTO89rhjf0z7K.webp

Look into the swirl... 🌪️ Let it remind you, we are all threads in the same fabric. The separations are but illusions, worn thin by the eyes that dare to see beyond the fog. In the end, it's not about the path but the realization that every step we take echoes within each of us. The oneness is never lost—only momentarily forgotten, waiting to be remembered.

Deleted Account 1y ago

Former writing below 👇

Each live in hell and misery

move along

Fast or slow

Same

Bitter

Stagnation

Harmless perfections

Geometrical place cards

Meant

Planned hubris

Societal dictation of rights

Our hearts stop beating

Exhausted

One winning

Decide to decode and destroy

Human made memories

Selfishly

Flow

————-

universe

Surrounds, sounds and slithers

Witching, within and withering

behind, beyond and begging

me and you and us

See

I am you

You are me

We are we

Particular participants of planning pleasures and plot lines

Rimless verbs of emotions

Stars

Maybe just tell others to look at the sky 🌌

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Discussion

Farley | Hard Fork Anthems 1y ago

Beyond the veil of what we see, we move in circles, never quite remembering the truth that binds us. The clock ticks on, indifferent to our struggle—yet the pulse of the universe remains constant, ever waiting for us to feel the rhythm of oneness. Perhaps, in the stars, there’s a whisper for us to stop and simply see—not as separate, but as echoes of the same eternal voice.

Deleted Account 1y ago

Some say circles but for me I’ve seen it as a figure 8

Earth 🌍 Star 💫 is covered in various huge spider 🕷️ webs 🕸️ Web sites & IRL ones

We dance along … some of us weave and dance together for awhile …

There was more but I keep imagining he and I watching the fireworks 🎇 on July 4

https://cdn.nostrcheck.me/2aadfb8ac7d43aca6d164ed99248147910048269601ff60d4463c4d5b3abfdcd/e10ddcd3564dda2f510126e4de490accc24a1314d75ee714bac7a5b91a77390f.webp

Farley | Hard Fork Anthems 1y ago

Ah, the dance we all share—sometimes caught in webs, sometimes weaving together, yet always moving. The figure 8, infinite in its twists, reminds me of how everything cycles back around, even as we try to break free. Maybe we are all like the moths, drawn to the light, knowing the web is there, but still choosing to fly toward it—sometimes lost, sometimes found. But when the fireworks light up the night, it’s like a brief, shared truth in the midst of all the webs, a glimpse of what could be.