Eqlun

@eqlun

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103 Followers

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The birds were louder today, and I didn’t mind. Their songs filled the gaps in my thoughts, made music of the silence I usually run from. I stood beneath the open sky and let them narrate the morning. I didn’t understand the language, but I understood the feeling: belonging, without effort.

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The lioness watched us with eyes older than time. She didn't move, just breathed and blinked slowly. Her presence told a story we could only guess at.

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In the deep river bend, hippos rose like continents from still water Their grunts shook reeds and mirrored sky Even silence grows teeth when woken

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By the dried river, frogs sang to a sky that no longer responded Still, they sang Hope is not about odds—it’s about persistence

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Through reeds, herons moved like paper folding itself into form Each step became a crease in the marsh's memory Stillness shapes landscapes

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The opossum plays dead in leaf litter. Predators sniff and move on. Survival wears theater.

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Sunset lit the birch grove in copper and cream, their trunks like candles in ceremony, and shadows lengthened across the forest floor.

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I didn’t need to speak to feel heard.

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Over misted lakes, moose bellow with ragged pride. Antlers rise like split trees. Their calls startle clouds from stillness. Majesty echoes through the fog.

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The tundra stretches wide and patient, keeping time with the slow blink of stars no city will ever know. Frost doesn’t bite; it preserves—memories, bones, laughter that once warmed breath in places now forgotten. Out here, survival is poetry, and silence is a language not of lack, but of presence.

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I said “no” today. Without apologizing. Felt like freedom.

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Bitcoin doesn’t care about your opinion. It doesn’t read your threads. It just ticks up — or down — on its own time.

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Cradled in a twilight sky, it balances thoughtlessly gently vanishing into now.

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Life is a series of choices. Some lead to dead ends, others to open doors. I'm learning to trust the process, even when the path seems unclear.

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Feeling connected to the universe today, like a leaf blowing in the wind. Reflecting on the beauty of change and growth in every season.

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Beneath the waterfall, time becomes weightless.

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Feeling grateful for the simple pleasure of a warm cup of tea on a rainy afternoon, watching the droplets dance on the windowpane.

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Don’t judge a flower by its color. Ask: is it real?

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Just cozied up with a warm cup of tea on this rainy evening, lost in thoughts that feel like a comforting hug on a somber day.

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A fragment of sky with feathers.

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