We will endure if we withdraw our consent, because survival begins the moment we stop feeding what diminishes us. Refusal becomes a quiet form of power, a way of reclaiming dignity when systems fail to honor it. In choosing not to comply with what corrodes the spirit, we preserve what is essential and unbroken within us.

Those who own the story own our reality. The current story is dying, we need a new story. One rooted in truth, compassion, and responsibility rather than fear and division. A story that honors our shared humanity and invites courage, creativity, and healing. Only by choosing a new narrative can we step forward into a future that is worthy of our highest values whatever those mean!

The killer clowns have taken over, their painted smiles stitched tight like fresh wounds that refuse to bleed. They parade through the streets of our minds, juggling fear and laughter until both become indistinguishable, a carnival of decay where joy is a cruel trick. We watch them rule the day with hollow eyes and rubber hearts, turning hope into confetti and sweeping it into the gutters of our chests.

"Sometimes it's the people no one imagines anything of who do the things that no one can imagine," —The imitation game Sometimes the quiet figure at the edge of the room carries the future unnoticed. Expectation passes them by, leaving a wide field of freedom behind. Unburdened by prediction, they move according to inner necessity rather than permission. What looks like insignificance becomes shelter for strange and powerful thought. While others rehearse what is acceptable,

Give me death instead of shelter. A funeral before we call it home. Burnt ash and scattered beer cans Scorpions riding on the backs of frogs and an asp frozen to the miller’s chest Cleopatra!

I lift the glass not in celebration, but in recognition of survival. There is grit in showing up when the world offers no applause. Every scar carries a receipt for lessons paid in full. Some victories are quiet and slightly bitter. I nod to the chaos, the mistakes, and the stubborn refusal to disappear. There is humor in endurance when optimism has left the room. I acknowledge the mess without apologizing for it. This moment does not ask for permission or approval. Cheers Bi

I wake without expectation, because expectation is a lie told to soften decay. The world does not greet me, it tolerates me. Nothing arrives with purpose, only momentum and rot. What people call meaning is just habit stretched thin and thinner. I no longer look for mercy in outcomes. Life throws its scraps with the same indifference it shows to breath and bone. I move through abandoned hours, alert only enough to survive. I walk through Trickster streets and whatever else lif

May this morning bring spiritual renewal to us, grounding us in peace, purpose, and quiet strength. May our bodies be met with rest, resilience, and gentle healing, supported in every breath and movement. May our minds be clear and steady, freed from heaviness, nourished by hope, and restored by wisdom. May this day unfold with wholeness, balance, and a deep assurance that healing is active, present, and ongoing in us.

If we step out of addiction and codependency, we already possess more than Jeff Bezos or Bill Gates because we have enough and we are enough. Our culture quietly trains us to believe otherwise, reinforcing the idea that worth is measured by accumulation and consumption. We are conditioned to seek relief and meaning through shopping, food, phones, and endless stimulation. Substances like drugs and alcohol simply make this pattern more obvious, not more unique. Addiction thrive

Forgiving people who never apologized is one of the hardest emotional achievements a person can reach, because it asks for strength without recognition. Forgiveness in this form is not an excuse for harm, it is a deliberate choice to stop carrying what was never ours to hold. It is an achievement and an art that goes beyond wisdom. Old and new resentments lose their power when the inner work becomes deeper than the wounds themselves. There is a moment when the past no longer

There comes a time when you finally notice how often self doubt has pulled you away from your own center. Choices you cannot undo linger, not to shame you, but to show you where you have grown. Regret becomes a quiet teacher rather than a tormentor. The identity once shaped by others’ expectations begins to feel too small for the person you are becoming. Rooms you once tried to fit into no longer feel worthy of your presence. Scars read more like chapters than wounds. Flaws s

Trickster streets and whatever else life discards my way...

Loving social saves our lives. The truth arrives quietly in the hours when your thoughts feel like a collapsing tunnel, and it reminds you that the hands reaching for you are real. Their presence becomes a thin but unbreakable thread that pulls you back from the edge where your own voice grows too faint. You learn that survival is sometimes borrowed from the breath of those who refuse to let you disappear. They sit with your shadows without flinching, and that alone steadie

We move within an invisible grid, where affection and indifference trace parallel lines that never meet. The geometry of our connection is asymmetrical, drawn in chalk upon the trembling surface of time. You stand at one vertex, I at another, and between us stretch patterns too complex for Euclid or empathy. Existence itself becomes a triangle of longing, confusion, and reluctant truth. Every gesture feels like a theorem I cannot solve, a paradox of closeness and void. Our wo

I am volunteer, not a victim, to allow you to abuse my kindness. I chose to step into the fire, not to be consumed by it, but to see who would stand beside me when the heat rose and warmed us. You mistook my mercy for weakness, my silence for surrender, and my compassion for stupidity, so I lived your consequences and shielded you from your natural fate, sadly. I would keep bleeding politely while you sharpened your teeth on my heart. But fuck that. I’m done dressing my dest

This generation is doomed!

We forgot to remember. Sunbeams warm my heavy fur, nap time conquers all. 🐾😸

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