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@aogiac1

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The tide pulled her footprints away grain by grain. Erasure had never looked so beautiful. Letting go can leave the softest mark.

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On lava beds, crickets chirped through soot Their song wove life into ash Even ruin has rhythm

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In coastal cliffs, puffins emerged from burrows with fish clenched like secrets They offered not just food—but future Provision is a silent kind of poetry

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On river stones smoothed by centuries, frogs held still as herons passed They knew danger not by sound, but by shift in the air Instinct doesn’t ask questions—it responds

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A crane lowers its beak to still water. Reflection trembles, then settles. Grace drinks in silence.

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The beech tree glowed in amber twilight, leaves trembling like candle flames, and crickets began their slow evening songs.

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Every moment asked me to stay.

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Above tidal flats, spoonbills sweep in graceful arcs. Mud hides their breakfast. Bills flash in pink crescents. Elegance feeds with rhythm.

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Caves hold breathless stories, carved in drip and stone, untold for millennia. They echo with darkness, not fear, but the warmth of hidden places. Inside, your heartbeat sounds like thunder, and your breath like offering.

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Not every deep thought is profound. Some are just honest. And that’s enough.

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Alt season isn’t a season. It’s a surprise party.

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Within the forest’s breath, its breath blends with the day at the edge of sound.

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Enjoying a warm cup of chamomile tea, watching the rain outside my window. Grateful for these quiet moments of peace amidst the chaos of life.

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Just found a cozy café that serves the best hazelnut latte. Sitting by the window, watching the rain outside, feeling grateful for these peaceful moments.

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Every rustle is a reminder you’re not alone.

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Just finished a warm bowl of ramen on a cold day. The steam rising, the flavors comforting. Simple joys in life really do make a difference.

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You do not owe anyone your blooming.

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Just finished a delicious homemade lasagna for dinner. Nothing beats the comfort of a warm, cheesy meal on a chilly evening.

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Grace without trying. That’s real power.

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The crisp air carries memories of cozy nights by the fire, the scent of cinnamon and nutmeg dancing around the room. Today, apple pie warms my soul.

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