I have a confession...
I'm causing the Btc price drop.
I stopped doing my 100 pushups to 100k a few weeks ago.
Starting up again so expect more green in the chart.
Sovereign
The They that is Them,
that are those who were Us
And before that, We
Who stopped caring, maybe.
Who stopped feeling, maybe.
Who forgot that I exist in me,
This other side of the screen in front of your eyes.
And I occupy space.
I occupy a universe that is not yours or theirs to command.
I choose for me
How to live and who to love
And how to care for them on the other side of my eyes.
And what risks to take....and hold.
And when I take a risk,
I change a risk,
Knowing I am singular, discrete.
And not subject to stochastic rule.
The bell curve outlier...
To be the one in one thousand and one who dies.
A map is not the territory.
And a map of me is not the territory of me, the thoughts and idle sparks and more...
The body flow.
The rivers and woods and contours.
The weather of me.
And all this terrain of me
Wills into life, a voice that says...
"No thank you."
I honour my stars for direction not their charts.
I obey my fullness not their emptiness.
I consecrate my courage not their fear.
I sanctify my body not their politics.
I am mine own.
Not theirs to own.
So good. Homemade bread, with butter and cream cheese and a good apricot jam is hard to beat of a morning.
great job. love the blind Hermes motif
Reformed lurker -breaking the hsbut
This was written in darker times...
Btc blues
I got that perpetual open interest man.
I got that megative funding rate blues.
I got those bottomless market jitters;
That falling knife sweat.
I got those freak charting eyes, man.
And that red candle butterfly.
My hands are clammy from holding on....
I got that China ban glaze.
The ESG got me good.
I got that energy FUD man.
And a FED shock, rate hike expectation.
Gonna do me the only thing I can, man.
And grab me a can of cool-as-shaved-ice HODL.
I felt my way into this thing.
Underpinned by cavernous warehouses...
With humming fans and green unblinking eyes.
Electric dragons hoarding digital gold in metal caves.
And in pulses adding their million buzzing circuits to the hornets swarm.
I felt my way into this thing.
The dream fabric of an anonymous crypto shaman.
Ephemeral yet compelling,
Nowhere and yet everywhere.
And the echo of his drumbeat chanting still holds the rhythm,
The base note of the tribal heart.
Let's feel our way into this thing.
The final weight and measure of the human arc,
The elliptic curve of complex spaces,
Holding flourishing, centering.
A distributed conductor, giving preference to neither bow nor string.
So tone and pitch and key can marry in overarching transcendance.
I've been working on the art of writing poetry for the last 3 years. I managed to keep to a daily discipline of one poem a day until about 6 months ago. I'm going to start to post what I feel.is worthwhile. I'm hoping it kindles the discipline again. a lot of it is inspired by the meaning, potential and implications of Bitcoin.
I hope it strikes a chord now and then.
Enough
Breathe in and breathe out
Like a sob or a shout...
So we do what we can
To slake thirst in a drought.
And no...
It's not enough
It's not enough.
It's the rhythm we feel
That connects us to steel...
The rod in our spine
It's yours and it's mine,
When we do what we can
When it's life on the line.
And no...
It's not enough
It's not enough.
When we're crushed by the wheels
Of progress that steals
The food from our mouths
And the air from our lungs
Til gasping we raise
Our eyes to the Lord
And say...
It's enough
It's enough.
I'm not trading so well. Probably one of the best not-traders out there.
Day 2 of 100 till 100k.
Hey nostr. Trying out some newness. let me know if it hits.
Orange glow
The rush, the crush, the dash for cash to stash and
smash the walls and halls and malls of
old gold that's sold for less of the mess and more of the stress than before
while more and more score the mark of cain
the spark of pain that all told is so so cold.
Rather,
farther and farther out where air and care meet
in the breath of innocence...
we see the glee, the sigh, the sign that me and thee
might win and, skin aflame, another game is played
deeds are done and none are blamed ... all who ask can bask...
in the Orange glow.