The highs and lows, the cyclic mood, the song lodged in your heart.

Everything comes, and everything goes. Who knows how many times we've had this conversation.

We each live as beings of two minds: those decisions we made, and the doubts we carry for them.

Peer deeply and see the universe is made of pure potential, while we are made of universe.

Sometimes it's life, pained, to persist in a world of such resentment it scours us. Flenses. Reduces us.

We construct our reality, and begin with the spark of imagination. Without it, we can do nothing.

Discovery is a process, a way of being, not an act. To cease is to stagnate.

Unsettled and disarmed; the wall against which we place our backs has turned on us.

The wind blows through a place of beauty, but there is no one left to see it.

But who are you, and who am I, and would we know if we ever found out?

Day and night were interchangeable now; it wasn't about light or dark anymore, but in what colours you chose to bathe.

Show older is a mastodon instance dedicated to highposting and content susceptible to entertain people while they are high (or not), similarly to r/woahdude. 🍍🍍🍍