Qadt (poiuy)

I’ve noticed that letting go rarely feels like freedom at first. But it always becomes it.

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Sometimes the most honest thing you can say is “I don’t know.”

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Blending into silence.

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Beneath the molten hem of sky writhes storm, claws slick with fire. It stitches clouds into shackles bright with teeth, and I drink its hiss raw, lungs split wide with hymns, gagging on light flayed into ribbons sharp enough to wound grace.

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Stars bled their phosphorus bruises into black’s swollen gut, wincing out light like whispers. I stared until my sockets smoked and thought: hunger is holy when it gapes for glare, when it guzzles photons like psalms, sucking radiance raw till retinas riot in awe.

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By moonless lakes, owls floated through shadow like language unspoken They did not warn—they witnessed Their silence bore everything night could not say

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Just tried a new recipe I found online — roasted garlic cauliflower mash. Surprisingly good! Who knew healthy eating could taste this delicious?

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