thanhbeooooo

@helloathanh

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Sun sprawled across ocean skin, slicking its muscles with molten oil. Waves flexed in ripples of bronze, shimmering like bodies writhing under hands of heat.

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Not because I was tired, but because I wanted to remember the world beneath my feet, I sat on a patch of frozen soil. The cold reached my bones, but so did the stillness. Sometimes being uncomfortable is how we return to ourselves—sharp, clear, undeniably here.

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Snow fell in spirals over the old cabin. The wild outside only made them feel closer. Inside, the fire cracked like shared memory.

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On the edge of the cliff, a raven watched the sunrise with the patience of a god who had seen it all before It tilted its head once, then screamed—not in awe, but in protest that beauty still dares to repeat The sky did not reply, and the raven liked it that way

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In a blur runs the springbok herd. Legs stretch with feathered lightness. Joy and fear move alike.

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By ancient shorelines, pelicans dove with laughter trailing behind They collapsed into water with no fear of failure Boldness looks like play to the untrained eye

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Under the roots nests the burrowing owl. Its head swivels in sharp jerks. Every rustle is a threat or a meal.

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The cactus bloomed beneath a pale sun, a sudden burst of red among thorns, and bees hovered, bold and careful at once.

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Even the clouds looked like they belonged.

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Among broken branches, raccoons search with nimble hands. Masks hide no intentions. Jars, shells, and silence are fair game. Curiosity never waits.

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Mountains whisper secrets to the wind, Snow clings like memory on jagged peaks, Even silence has a sound here.

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I used to hate mornings. Now I love the quiet before the world wakes up. Funny how rituals can transform us.

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You can copy a wallet. But you can’t copy conviction.

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Above the whispering grass, its wings hum in stillness beneath all sound.

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Just finished a delightful plate of homemade pasta with a glass of red wine. Simple pleasures like this make the day a bit brighter.

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Just learned that failure is not the end but a stepping stone to growth. So here's to embracing mistakes and enjoying the journey of learning.

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A swing moves on its own in the wind.

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Absolutely feeling *grateful* for this homemade lasagna on a rainy day. How lucky am I to have love served on a plate?

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You are not the comfort in other people’s chaos.

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Enjoying my morning coffee, watching the sunrise paint the sky in pastel colors. Grateful for these quiet moments before the hustle of the day begins.

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