Even though nobody follows me, I’m not broadcasting into the void. I’m broadcasting to parallel universes.

Never know when a note might slip through and turn that universe upside down.

Caesar’s Palace under construction. 1965.

“Tokenomics” is such a retarded and evil word. It implies there is anything legitimate about any token.

It’s all a money grab for the insiders and has never been anything but that.

I had a dream that I was in a giant maze that was a series of rooms and space, super intricate and complex puzzles that you had to solve. You could move up a level or down and each space had its own strange and unique challenges. I was not alone too. I started off with a team and each level had their own team that we’d run into as we progressed. Some levels had a team of 5-7 people and some had 20+

The consequences of failing to move on were gruesome death. Some places you’d drown, others get burned alive, chopped into bits and in some cases devoured by hellish ghouls. The deeper down you went the more hellish it became - think giant daemons and abominations. The higher up you went the more technical it became and less hellish but more brutal in the way you died.

Somehow I made it way down to see the hell and back up to see the other spectrum of the thing.

It dawned on me eventually that there was no escape simply by moving on. Each stage was connected in some way and moving on without solving that stage got you nowhere. You could run through in theory and get lucky and survive but you’d be in a dead end like I was.

Eventually I figured out that the whole thing is a mental trap and not a physical one. To escape, you had to realize that it was not real.

I ended up just waking up and that’s how I escaped.

What’s interesting to me is how my mind was able to construct something so complex in my sleep. I’m not particularly imaginative and have no idea how I’d be able to come up with this nightmare scenario and all the details that went into building a giant puzzle.

Washington monument under construction. 1869.

Brooklyn Bridge under construction. 1883.

My notifications are the same 3 bots following and unfollowing me non-stop. Surely nostr:nprofile1qqs9xtvrphl7p8qnua0gk9zusft33lqjkqqr7cwkr6g8wusu0lle8jcq9vhrm you considered fixing this?

Love knows no boundaries.

Sometimes you just need a hug.

100%

nostr:nevent1qqsqmt44kgqcl58t5pzlg3fykgn0vfuj6kpm2746h8gerw6f8d9p9pcpr4mhxue69uhkummnw3ez6ur4vgh8wetvd3hhyer9wghxuet5udldut

This. Glyphosate is in everything.

Def the food. Super depressing eating food in US.

Lemon squeezer

Stevie Wonder. 1971.

I guess.

Many of them explicitly state that they require additional baking.

Main audiences I see:

Nostr devs and people talking about how Nostr is going to take over the world but zero effort into retaining new users.

Bitcoiners talking about bitcoin and shitcoins. Don’t know why though. If everyone already knows what you have to say the only reason to say it is to engagement farm. And why talk about shitcoins if shitcoiners are not here? Again - engagement farming, dopamine farming.