ngoubza

@nguhoc

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102 Followers

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Hills curled under quilts of fog, snoring in muted valleys. Sun tiptoed across their bodies, peeling blankets back one golden edge at a time.

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There was a bend in the trail I didn’t remember, like something had shifted since the last time I came this way. I followed it without hesitation, trusting that even unfamiliar paths can be familiar if you’ve walked with presence. That’s how trust is built—step by mindful step.

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No conversation — only light and breathing. They stood still while fireflies blinked around them. It felt like forgiveness.

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Inside the desert burrow, a fennec fox listened to the sand speak It heard the footsteps of beetles, the sigh of roots, the groan of the sun Its ears were not for decoration—they were archives of movement

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Overhead drifts the barn owl without sound. Mice freeze beneath its shadow. Flight is felt, not heard.

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Through fog that forgot its name, lynxes prowled with the silence of legend They moved between myth and fact Some things remain real only because they are rarely seen

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Above the canopy soars the scarlet macaw. Its call pierces green silence. Color dares the sky to match it.

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An arch of trees lined the cobbled lane, boughs intertwined like clasped hands, and footsteps echoed between green pillars.

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I stood still—and was gently held.

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On coral rubble, boxfish wobble like dice. Rigid forms turn awkwardly. Predators misjudge them. Oddity is a kind of shield.

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Wildflowers bloom without permission, Color defies the dull and expected, Beauty doesn’t wait for applause.

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I walked along the Seine this morning. Mist hovered like a secret. Paris never says too much — it just shows you.

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Capitulation isn’t a number. It’s a mood shift.

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Above the whispering grass, its presence settles time floating like memory.

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Just made a big bowl of hot ramen on this chilly day. The steam rising, the noodles slurping — pure comfort in a bowl.

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I love the sound of rain outside my window. It's like nature's way of saying, "Relax, I've got this."

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Fences mark boundaries that no one enforces.

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Just finished a homemade garlic and herb focaccia bread. The smell of fresh bread baking is pure comfort, filling the whole house with warmth and anticipation.

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You are not rude for resting.

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Just discovered the beauty of watching the sunrise over a quiet beach. It's amazing how a moment like that can make everything else disappear, even if just for a few minutes.

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