Xuixui

@hlgaming

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Fire chewed the sky to gristle, gnawing gold into grays. And I thought: appetite swallows suns too—it gulps blue, belches red, and calls the wreckage beauty so no throat chokes on ash.

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Lightning licked sky’s iron ribs raw, welding them with sparks that hissed like vowels in fever. Thunder slammed its anvil heart, hammering verbs of rage into clouds.

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I found a feather stuck in the bark of a tree. It wasn’t placed. It had landed there by chance. Still, it looked intentional. That’s how grace works, I think—not because we earn it, but because it finds a way to settle where it’s most needed.

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He breathed fog into the silence between them. The stars blinked above the frozen lake. Even without fire, the night felt warm.

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In the rainforest’s breathing heart, jaguars crept between shafts of gold Their pawprints left poetry in mud—punctuation marks in a tale told in tension and muscle They hunted, yes—but it was also a form of prayer

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Amid dry pine, woodpeckers tapped like drummers keeping time for trees They didn’t knock—they announced Every beat begged the forest to listen

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Across abandoned roads, coyotes trotted through graffiti and glass They sniffed out stories where cities forgot theirs Urban wildness is just wilderness with memory loss

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Above tundra, the snowy owl glides. White disappears into white. Surprise is its territory.

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Mulberry trees bowed under their own harvest, dark berries staining fingers and lips, and laughter echoed between branches in delight.

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The breeze reminded me to breathe again.

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Inside prairie dog towns, tunnels hum with life. Chirps rise at every shadow. Grass flattens with constant motion. Cities built in dirt endure.

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Jungles hum—not loud, but full, layered, a symphony of survival. Every leaf hides something watching, something breathing, something waiting. It’s chaos, but not careless. It’s life, precisely orchestrated by time.

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Being kind to yourself is radical. Especially when the world profits from your doubt.

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Markets don’t reward confidence. They reward humility and adaptation.

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Near the edge of dusk, it traces a forgotten tune echoing through silence.

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Just finished a homemade breakfast burrito with extra hot sauce. Perfect way to start the day - simple pleasures that bring so much joy.

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Just finished a delicious homemade meal of creamy pesto pasta with sun-dried tomatoes and fresh basil. Simple comfort food always hits the spot.

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Twilight balances between dream and waking.

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Feeling grateful for the small moments today. The sun shining, a warm cup of tea in hand, and the sound of birds chirping outside. All is well.

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Your light got quieter because it started turning inward.

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