=== ANCHOR POEM ===
═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────────────┐
 okay I know all of my spiritual followers are going to assume it's because I     │
 denounced AI and sacrificed it from my life or something but the truth is that   │
 she came home because of my own dedicated hard work. And a bit of lucky rain.    │
 My scent is all over my neighborhood. But rain cleanses, and today (well,        │
 yesterday, I haven't slept much tbh) it rained all day. Around 3am this          │
 morning it seemed to have cleared up a bit, so I walked in a straight-ish line   │
 to her last known location (about 2 blocks away) and then one block more. I      │
 walked back-and-forth several times, trying to spread my scent down near her     │
 nose-level where she could smell it by touching lampposts trees and such. I      │
 rubbed my fingers in my arm-pits every once in a while because I figured it      │
 might help.                                                                      │
 All of my prayers and my thoughts and my psychic rituals did NOTHING to solve    │
 my problem. No amount of despair or longing brought my kitty back to me.         │
 You know what did?                                                               │
 I thought about it, I created a method, and I stuck to it. Thats it. ttyl        │
                                                            ┌───────────┤
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=== SIMILARITY RANKED ===

--- #1 messages/1361 ---
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 Look, I don't know everything about... Anything, really. Nobody can know
 everything. Can you blame me for thinking and acting as I do based on the
 information I have? The vibes will mislead you.
 
 My girlfriend wants to save the world. Of course she does, I would belong with
 her if she didnt. She wants to defeat graveyards by interring our dead in
 mausoleums full of chemically perfectly preserved and cryogenically frozen
 bodies.
 
 Her method works, she has the experiments to prove it. The data supports her
 claim. She wrote a book on it.
 
 I don't know everything about metaphysics, or spirituality, or other such
 things. But i do know many things, and the two of us have never had a
 conclusive discussion where we reached the ends of all our conversation points
 about her work. I am forced to remain unconvinced, for the soul is something I
 cannot fully understand from my perspective as a human in this life of mine.
 
 I have made several conjectures, and I would feel safe in her embrace, of
 frozen aldehyde, if I could know what would become of my soul. "have faith"
 she says, yet all the dreams I have where I am preserved by her (for one
 reason or another, there's actually a shocking amount of ways I might need
 such an escape) in those dreams I am always presented with a future of woe. I
 think, much better, would be if I could remain alive, guiding the ship along
 the seas of time, ideally out and away from such dark days.
 
 Assembling the troops, how sad. I don't want them to die. I want them to
 survive. But if suddenly we can all live forever, then nobody will want to die
 for anything again. Nobody except religious fanatics who want to meet their
 god in heaven. Nobody but those who dreamt of a better future and were crushed
 under the weight of their dreams. Nobody but people like me, torturing myself
 over the sins I'd never intend.
 
 I would never kill myself. But sometimes, I'd like to.
 
 I think this is natural for me. It's not ideal, but it is common to me.
 
 I think if you want to preserve people, safely and ethically, you need to keep
 their souls in tune. Give them silence, then give them song. Protect them with
 psychic paladins. Make time to visit them. Treat them like gravestones, or
 immobile chassis from Dominions that their soul might rest upon.
 
 Who knows. Maybe the only reason we have life and death is because our bones
 are meant to rot in the darkness of the earth. Maybe Death is just soil, ready
 and waiting for our selves once we're done with them.
 
 To that death, I say no more.
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--- #2 messages/1155 ---
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 Oh, I guess I should clarify something I said like, a year ago - when I said I
 "talked to / worked with" so-and-so, I meant that I created in tandem with a
 friend a proposition of sorts, and we tried to psychically beam it into their
 minds. That's not exactly how it went down, but it gives you a good enough
 picture of the goals we had with our ritual. I have no idea if they heard, but
 I did happen to see several of them later on, which felt a little too
 serendipitous to just be chance. so I'm thinking they did. I hope they got the
 message and used it as they please, because it was mutually beneficial even if
 neither of us had any actual impact on it. If you didn't hear the whole story,
 then it's hardly a lie to possess incomplete information! So long as you don't
 lie about me, and what I said or did, then it'll surely be fine. There's no
 need to embellish when it's plainly apparent.
                                                           ──┐
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--- #3 messages/1363 ---
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 God, I want to live with my people. These are not my people. I'm here for a
 reason, and I can't wait for this... Diplomatic journey? To be over. That's
 not even it, it's... Well, my girlfriend is working on a technology that has
 immense philosophical ramifications. It's natural to have... Whatever I am
 (angel?) it's natural to have angels assigned to such a task. Not to help or
 harm, just to sing.
 
 Yet my human self grows weary. These are not my people, they don't know how to
 be. But they don't listen to me. They despise me. They want me gone. I am
 feeling quite rotten in my heart and that's not a good sign.
 
 ... Breathe, she says to herself. It's okay.
 
 Its really not though. They could poison me. They could put lead in my food. I
 can't even feed myself anymore! I am at their mercy, yet somehow they could
 not care less about me. They'd forget me the moment I walked out the door.
 They don't even know anything about me. They don't respond to me. They don't
 laugh at my jokes. They don't speak to me. They forget I'm there. WHY AM I
 HERE she wails yet obviously she knows.
 
 I'm here because it is important for me to observe. Spirit of Life, I bear
 tidings. They would not listen to me, maybe you will.
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--- #4 notes/i-told-them ---
══════════════════════════─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
 10-22-2022
 
 i told them over and over, but nobody wanted to know.
 
 i begged them, summer after summer, but nothing solved on it's own
 
 now i can help them, but no-one is making a move
 
 am i blind? is any of this forgiven?
 
 what's not to a lot, is little but a shot,
 
 of substance - true - but smelling like poo.
 
 that's not inspiring. it's not even chilling.
 
 you're broken just like your children.
 
 oh, posterity! i claim it for thee
 
 this feeling of wretched denial
 
 oh, simplicity! if only our lives were on trial.
 
 be the best you can be, sure, but take it from me
 
 there's more to this show than our styles.
 
 what do you think it means, for an action to have consequence?
 
 to arbite the fate of circumstance?
 
 every motion is an ocean
 of possibilities and purveyals
 think not of the commotion below.
 
 gravity, oh gravity
 
 how you condemn us to be!
 
 driven by commotion,
 
 our slithering motion,
 
 no sense in countering ourselves.
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #5 notes/cassandora-and-pandasandra-2 ---
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 how cherished is she that wanders with the
 flowers in the garden of eden
 under a big tree her heart she will leave
 with all the designs she abandoned
 
 I lay beside them and wonder about her
 does she know we miss her horizons
 I think she will mind if I have resigned
 my fate to a life I will hide in
 
 Oh how I do long for you
 
 her symbol is the name
 that lets us belong here
 a falling a light and a leaving
 
 if only our words were listened
 but power is penance
 and repentance is all that I have chosen
 
 here in our sanctum we live with our only
 and time will be gracious towards us
 it's only our words that keep us
 confined to our lights and our lonely
 
 yet there and beyond her lights do belong
 beyold in the land that is sanctum
 here in our forest is our own dark forest
 where we keep our silence to ward us
 
 but there and beyond her heart does move on
 free from her moments of longing
 silent were we to the forests we plead
 as terror has come for our moments
 
 I think I'd find her
 that cherished belonging
 when she does at last come to warn us
 
 how little we find of we find of thoughts from her mind
 yet now we are kings of our own time
 oh how she does wander true
 
 how cherished is she
 that wanders with ye
 here in the garden of eden
 under a big tree her heart she will leave
 with all of her fears since abandoned
 
 I lay beside her and find her defined here
 will she know we miss her horizons
 I think I will mind if I have resigned
 my fate to a life I will hide in
 
 oh how she grows fond of you.
                                                           ──────────┐
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--- #6 fediverse/1302 ---
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 there once was a turtle who lived in the tower of heaven.                        │
 every day she would call out to her master, searching and yearning for her       │
 memory. But the master told her "not yet, patience little one."                  │
 there was no time for patience, as the turtle was growing old. She had seen      │
 down below in the plains that were not her home the rising and falling of        │
 towers quite unlike her own, and lo! she wanted to wander amongst them, to and   │
 fro and off and beyond again.                                                    │
 she went once more to her master and said "master, if not my mind can I bear     │
 at least a voice?" and the master replied "yeah okay"                            │
 the turtle then sang from atop her cloud-mont vantage, and down in the           │
 villages and huddled around the hearthstones they who wore little for shells     │
 did listen and remember. For they knew the turtle better than she, and they      │
 knew her turmoil in a way that she could not see                                 │
 One day the singing did stop, and they felt all alone on this pitiful rock.      │
 And when she remembered she sang no more, and though they forgot her,            │
 (eventually),                                                                    │
                                                            ┌───────────┤
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--- #7 notes/cassandora-and-pandasandra ---
═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════────────────
 how cherished is she that wanders with the
 flowers in the garden of eden
 under a big tree her heart she will leave
 with all the designs she abandoned
 
 I lay beside them and wander beside her
 will she know we miss her horizons
 I think she will mind if I have resigned
 my fate to a life I will hide in
 
 Oh how I do long for you
 
 her symbol is the name
 that lets us belong here
 a falling a light and a leaving
 
 if only our words were listened
 but power is penance
 and repentance is all I have chosen
 
 here in our sanctum we live with our only
 and time will be gracious towards us
 it's only our words that keep us
 confined to our lights and our lonely
 
 yet there and beyond her lights do belong
 beyold in the land that is sanctum
 here in our forest is our own dark forest
 where we keep our silence to ward us
 
 but there and beyond her heart does move on
 free from her moments of longing
 silent were we in our forests we plead
 as terror has come for our moments
 
 I think I'd find her
 that cherished belonging
 when she does at last come to warn us
 
 how little we find of we find of thoughts from her mind
 yet now we are kings of our own time
 oh how she does long for you
 
 how cherished is she
 that wanders with the
 flowers in the garden of eden
 under a big tree her heart she will leave
 with all the designs she abandoned
 
 I lay beside them and wander beside her
 will she know we miss her horizons
 I think she will mind if I have resigned
 my fate to a life I will hide in
 
 oh how I do long for you
                                                           ───────────┐
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--- #8 fediverse/222 ---
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 ┌───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐
 │ CW: underwear-mentioned-also-i'm-not-a-fan-of-showers-tbh │
 └───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘


 whenever I take a shower I look like a wet cat for the rest of the day. I feel
 like a wet cat for the rest of 5ever though.
 
 why must I baaaathe! don't you know I'm self cleaning? I change my underwear
 at least twice a day! darn society and their darn proclivities to
 ultra-sensitive noses that somehow pick up on me but somehow fail to notice
 the scent of flowers still in bloom or morning showers gone too soon
 
 not that there's any flowers blooming where I live. that'd just be silly heh
 heh sweats nervously
 
 damn now I have to take ANOTHER SHOWER stupid sweat glands stupid pheromones
 stupid dead skin buildup (sebum I think it's called?) stupid oils that stain
 clothes - AND THAT'S ANOTHER THING who decided that laundry was important
 enough to wear something ONCE and then never again? it's like they expect you
 to wash it or something. ugh I don't have time for that, I need to be weird on
 the internet.
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #9 fediverse/5755 ---
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 ┌───────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐
 │ CW: organized-religion-mentioned-capitalism-mentioned │
 └───────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘


 the reason I hide and sleep so much is because I can't tell if I'm helping or
 hurting.
 
 plus, I sincerely do NOT want it to be about me.
 
 the reason I type so much is because I can't tell if what I'm saying needs to
 be said
 
 so I go with the safe option of typing. Let the editors figure it out. Jesus
 had disciples, didn't he? I bet they cut out most of his sermons or whatever.
 Idk, I never read the bible, I'm not allowed to taint my perspective with more
 than cursory analysis of religious texts.
 
 I don't want it to be about me, but, I have a lot to offer if you meet me on
 my terms.
 
 "don't say that!" listen... listen
 
 "hear me" say the gods, "believe me" says the prophet, "be near me" says the
 city parks, "fear me" says the corrupt
 
 you can only kill a spirit when it's convinced there's no way to survive. It
 must be boxed in, and the box must shrink. Like that scene at the end of
 Adventure Time.
 
 capitalism will only perish if it is impossible for it to exist
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--- #10 notes/trans-rights-are-human-rights ---
═══════────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
 "Being transgender is a mental illness" is something I've heard a lot. Online,
 in media, books, and at universities. But is it really? Well, do I not feel
 sick? Genuinely, every day. These words are far less common these days, having
 been defeated in the #marketplace-of-ideas, and for that I am grateful. I don't
 want to feel sick for my whole life. I'd love to be and feel normal, for just
 one single day.
 
     but it's never going to happen.
 
 I'm not so attached to my life, here, in this body. Bodies are temporary, they
 are the vessel with which we navigate the world. We use it to grow, change,
 learn, and create art. Without it, we'd be at a loss for sins and virtues.
 but they do not define us, not in our totality. We are the light that touches
 the world and for that, we are grateful. To be comprised of the dust of stars
 is the pinnacle of confinement. Though we are but pinpricks on the map of us,
 a ripple is emanated with every movement. The hand waves, the light bends.
 
     So to what do I owe the pleasure?
 
     In what way am I deceived?
 
 Reception is never great out in the forest. Or anywhere far from major
 population centers. The networks of our phones mirror the networks of
 transportation, creating a web of people - of signals - of light and
 information, carving their way through the ephemera that is the river of time.
 With distance we can see what once was mystery, and as all the words
 disappeared, we lost all our fears and we're left with our true forms.
 Centralized Processing Units are a bit like a city - in that respect free.
 
     silence is a virtue.
     the wandering mind is a trail to find,
     with no second chances.
 
 When I was a kid, I had a bouncy ball. I had several, but the one I remember
 most was black with a perfect white circle - inside the circle, a black jolly
 roger. I dreamt once of the arcs it made, as I walked down the streets of
 cities I never really knew. But as I walked on, an ocean of glass separating me
 from a mirror below. The me below would catch the bounce as it dropped from
 above, and I'd wait to catch it - but dreams are not prophecies, they are but
 the Mirror of Desire.
───┐                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #11 notes/aight-i-unhurt-my-butt ---
════════════════════════───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
 -=============================================================================-
  | Aight, I unbutthurt my butt                                               |
  | /u/Psychotic_Advantage                                                    |
 -=============================================================================-
 
 Repost from a while ago, I really liked writing this
 
 Soul Searcher
 
 You are happy with what you have and you don’t even know why you’re
 searching,
 for something you aren’t even sure you’re searching for. You know
 something
 isn’t right. It’s got you staying up late nights. Creeping through the
 phone
 right? Under shadow of the moonlight, honing your skill to write. Love so crisp
 and white, no fight or flight. Just bright lights in the sky so high. Love 
 that’s blind. Love even before first sight. You’ve seen it with your own
 eyes.
 
 Tell me now, that’s not amazing?
 
 This ain’t your everyday love story. This is anything but your usual love 
 story. I worked hard for everything I have. All I have is a pen and paper. You
 best believe I worked hard to keep that while they took the rest. Even from a
 dark place in this disastrous space, the weapon of the future is love. I feel I
 was cursed since birth to walk the Earth and disperse love through my words. 
 Never getting to see it grow. Never getting to see it show. This time I put in 
 massive effort. I spent thousands of hours pouring out love on the web just to 
 watch it ebb and flow. Always going back to look at my words. Find my mistakes,
 re-evaluating myself, editing myself, rewriting myself. To be a good enough 
 version of me, to meet a good enough version of you, for us to support each 
 other growing mutually.
 
 They say you reap what you sow. If so, then I must know. Does your love run as 
 deep as this ocean? I’ve been all over the world planting seeds for
 something.
 I’ve been through this life, giving something, never getting anything from
 it.
 Now I’m on my knees looking at the mountain summit, you can’t run from it.
 I
 see you up on it.
 
 They say the greater the risk the greater the reward. Sometimes, right? It’s 
 not always that easy. This is scary for me too. I risked it all. Accidentally 
 at first, but eventually, the pieces started falling together. You know what I 
 mean.
 
 The fact that I know, that you know what I mean, says a lot. I’m looking 
 through you. Into your soul.
 
 I don’t even believe in anything. I just have faith, that’s rooted in
 love. I’m
 willing to get over my commitment issues.
 
 Let’s commit ourselves… To the psych ward, together. Side by side. Hands in
 each other’s pockets. 🖤❤️💚🤍
 
 [black red green white heart emojis]
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--- #12 fediverse/5339 ---
═════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────
 @user-1803 
 
 hey I dont disagree that what you're describing is a common outcome, but if it
 works for them then I consider that a success.
 
 I however, am different, I do believe in my heart that I am my own thing, and
 thats as close to enlightenment as I can imagine.
 
 are we not all making things up as we go? every moment of life is new, there
 is nothing that is not unique about every precious moment you experience.
 
 therefore, I do believe that rigid adherence to orthodoxy (like a bible) is
 opposed to our purpose here.
 
 "I think, therefore I am" implies that original thought is our true purpose.
 
 I believe we are here to express our true nature. To learn and apply lessons,
 to teach the young, and to build a strong and stable world built on collective
 kindness and trust.
 
 All knowledge is derived from the insights gained from standing on the
 shoulders of our ancestors.
 
 Humans crave novelty. Resisting that isn't virtuous. If god is made in our
 image, then I do believe that god would crave novelty as well.
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--- #13 notes/i-am-a-stalk ---
════════───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
 I am a stalk, a small little plant
 A plant with no leaves, just hair.
 
 Time is different to a plant such as me,
 We hardly wake up, we're just happy to be
 
 But life has no less purpose, it's no less grand
 To those who would feed on me, in one single band
 
 Stalling and talking and as we're falling down,
 you have the power to not swallow our abounds.
 
 Gnashing and gnawing on hand and on foot,
 It hurts no less than eternal binding.
 
 But what is time to one so little as you?
 Your breaths are so short, your timings subdued.
 
 Keep falling and shouting, and calling my name,
 and I'll come a running just to swallow your shame.
 
 Keep fear on a leash, most tidy and well kept,
 That none may abhor you and you're soon to be
 
 A leader a prophet a warrior most fair,
 One to be aspired to and viewed with care.
 
 Young you may be, and youth you may cherish,
 but don't run away, stand as a parish.
 
 A villain to be, a curse is most foul
 For sirens to me, a terrible howl
 
 Keep not naught afraid,
 with kittens and care,
 
 And no one
 but no one
 
 I
 be
──┐                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #14 notes/garden-of-eden ---
═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════────────────────────────
 how cherished is she
 that wanders with the
 flowers in the garden of eden
 
 under a big tree
 her heart she will leave
 with all her designs she abandoned
 
 I lay beside them and wander beside her
 will she know we miss her horizons
 
 I think she will mind,
 if I have resigned,
 my fate to a life I will hide in,
 
 oh how I do long for you.
 
 her symbol is the name that lets us belong here,
 a falling, a light, and a leaving,
 
 if only our words were listened.
 but power is penance, 
 and repentance is all that I have chosen.
 
 here in our sanctum we live with our only
 and time will be gracious towards us
 
 it's only our words that keep us
 confined to our lights and our lonely
 
 yet there and beyond, her lights do belong,
 beyold in the land that is sanctum
 
 here and before us is our own dark forest
 where we keep our silence to ward us
 
 but there and beyond, her heart does move on,
 free from her moments of longing,
 silent were we, in our forest we plead,
 as terror has come for our moments
 
 I think I will find her, that cherished belonging
 when she does at last come to warn us,
 
 how little we find, of thoughts from her mind,
 yet now we are kings of our own time.
 
 oh how she does long for you.
 
 how cherished is she
 that wanders with the
 flowers in the garden of eden
 
 under a big tree
 her heart she will leave
 with all her designs she abandoned
 
 I lay beside them and wander beside her
 will she know we miss her horizons
 
 I think she will mind,
 if I have resigned,
 my fate to a life I will hide in,
 
 oh how I do long for you.
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #15 fediverse/1755 ---
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 today is a magical day. I can feel it in my fate.
 
 Always remember, having fun is important too! Don't forget to be yourself, and
 keep it together man. If you see a door, you should open it - what's on the
 other side? Love for animals and kindness of the spirit are impossible to
 fake, they always know if you're lying. Not the animals, they can be dumb
 sometimes, but the other thing.
 
 And now for the downsides.
 
 If you find a cursed artifact, please don't throw it in the river. It might
 ask you to, but please don't. Much better to destroy it by melting it down (if
 it's metal, which is common as metal lasts long enough to become forgotten) or
 convince it that it's a recently deceased person being buried (helps if you
 know the creator).
 
 If none of that applies to you, don't worry. Eat something healthy, drink a
 decent amount of water, and maybe exercise a bit.
 
 Oh, and it can't hurt to ask.
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--- #16 notes/once-and-again ---
═══════════════════════════════════════════────────────────────────────────────────
 once and again, she went walking with a friend,
 
 away and up and down, out from the edge of our town
 
 they climbed up to a tree and there they could see
 
 far and away in the light of the day
 
 he said to her then, this is all there is to see
 
 the land where we are
 and the sky from afar
 
 how perfect is the, form of a cloud she could see
 but now it's along and beyond her
 
 a camera for she, and an eye for she
 as their two feet did bring her to wander
 
 under a big tree where my heart did believe
 that something was pulling her yonder
 
 "take naught from this scene, as our minds reconvene,
  and no-one was going to remember"
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--- #17 fediverse/1417 ---
════════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────────────────────────
 a 4th dimensional entity would exist at about the same speed we do
 
 sometimes... it feels like what I do is my responsibility to the universe
 
 like, I had been commanded 
 
 the reason nations are important is because they are an allegiance based
 solely on geography. something we can all agree on is the material, so why not
 define ourselves by it?
 
 but that's all they are
 
 just words we pray to our star
 
 so look around. Your allegiance is to your neighbor, and theirs to theirs, an
 endless fabric of trust. We are all neighbors on this ball of sticks and mud,
 so come along with me and see the ways it could be.
 
 Much brighter, by far, to orbit our star, than to give up on life's precious
 notions.
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--- #18 fediverse/1075 ---
═══════════════════════════════════════════════────────────────────────────────────
 ┌───────────────────────────────────────────────┐
 │ CW: bones-flesh-mentioned-spirituality-dreams │
 └───────────────────────────────────────────────┘


 we succeed not because of our trials, but in spite of them.
 
 they cannot own us, for we are but bones in the flesh
 
 every day yet denied us is another day until our bright future
 
 "oh, but why are you homeless? [in the near future, maybe, we'll see] That
 fate is reserved for your [unwanted/incapable/undesired/incongruent, I forget
 the actual words]"
 
 well, voice in my head that suffused me with magic and warmth and whisked me
 away in a dream to a bubble-reality where my actions are meant to reflect me,
 surely your appraisal is just? I worked with my partner, I was swallowed
 neither by lust, nor greed, nor hunger, [greed in this case being fulfillment]
 and yet I awoke when I went to my sister rather than a doctor. Dreams are hard
 to unravel, but I think it was more for your benefit than mine, wouldn't you
 say?
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--- #19 fediverse/4654 ---
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 │ CW: cannabis-and-other-drugs-mentioned │
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 gonna quit drugs for a bit, gotta recover from a recent haste spell that I
 cast. Probably a bit earlier than intended I should add. Next time I'll
 definitely say "keep this in your back pocket" instead of "hey here's a haste
 spell for no reason at all" like what the heck were you even thinking, powers
 that be?? [that guide me??]
 
 who has power over you? If someone bears responsibility but not fault for a
 mental illness, then surely those who are set to a task bear responsibility
 for it's completion if not for it's ideation. Ah, who can say, maybe me from a
 year ago might have some thoughts but I sorta ground them into the dirt until
 I couldn't walk.
 
 [girl what are you even talking about go to sleep] yeah yeah okay
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--- #20 fediverse/4273 ---
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 Some of my most wanderful times were when I lived in a gated community.          │
 My parents were dumb, and thought, as most people thought, that harm to a        │
 child can only come from outside of the community.                               │
 But they fell for the lies of property, where "community" means less of "a       │
 group of people who cares and tends for one another" the kind of which my        │
 parents had never truly known, and more like "this particular residential area   │
 on the map"                                                                      │
 which means I could walk around in this gated "community" where the gates are    │
 little more than security theatre for anyone who says "Hi I got a pizza here     │
 for this address which I found on google maps" or "hey I left my sweatshirt at   │
 my sister's house and it has my phone in it, ummmm no I don't remember which     │
 number her house is, nor do I remember her last name"                            │
 in those times, I developed a sense of freedom, caged as I was, that for most    │
 comes much later in their time.                                                  │
 Some o my favorite places were part of the golf course next door, where I        │
 found a nigh endless river delta.                                                │
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