n
@rhythmicillusion.bsky.social
oakland in the sweet summer smell of the golden grass
there's a contemplation to the way
a train spins a hill, makes a temple
with it, centering it off-center
as its own perspective, also with
tents and towns it is easier
to imagine being there, of there,
from rails than from a highway:
a train spins a hill, makes a temple
with it, centering it off-center
as its own perspective, also with
tents and towns it is easier
to imagine being there, of there,
from rails than from a highway:
October 1, 2025 at 4:43 PM
there's a contemplation to the way
a train spins a hill, makes a temple
with it, centering it off-center
as its own perspective, also with
tents and towns it is easier
to imagine being there, of there,
from rails than from a highway:
a train spins a hill, makes a temple
with it, centering it off-center
as its own perspective, also with
tents and towns it is easier
to imagine being there, of there,
from rails than from a highway:
Reposted by n
It’s nice that we can talk to each other, but the social media agency illusion has to go
September 11, 2025 at 11:08 AM
It’s nice that we can talk to each other, but the social media agency illusion has to go
I think fear and the perception of temperature are closely linked; think of the archetypal hand recoiling from the stove. I rarely fear heat, finding it relaxing to the point of mild injury; but how cold makes my stomach stiffen feels just like what we call fear.
June 10, 2025 at 11:08 PM
I think fear and the perception of temperature are closely linked; think of the archetypal hand recoiling from the stove. I rarely fear heat, finding it relaxing to the point of mild injury; but how cold makes my stomach stiffen feels just like what we call fear.
Though a materialist, I cry out for the soul. What am I to live after, to quest for, if not becoming infinite? Shouldn’t I then fear death as the moment the soul meets its proof? And shouldn’t I seek utopia for others? Alas, utopia contains a forever, and we know there is no such type of time.
June 10, 2025 at 11:07 PM
Though a materialist, I cry out for the soul. What am I to live after, to quest for, if not becoming infinite? Shouldn’t I then fear death as the moment the soul meets its proof? And shouldn’t I seek utopia for others? Alas, utopia contains a forever, and we know there is no such type of time.
I feel like I’ve been trying forever to figure out what trust is. Half forecasting half escape, trust is like a crush in the way it happens, and in how it can be requited.
June 10, 2025 at 11:01 PM
I feel like I’ve been trying forever to figure out what trust is. Half forecasting half escape, trust is like a crush in the way it happens, and in how it can be requited.