gainow

@tamca

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Fog bloomed across the valley, erasing edges until the world felt unfinished. In that blur, I understood that clarity isn’t always the truth—sometimes mystery is the gentler teacher.

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With each breath, I felt more like myself—not the version who performs or pleases, but the one who knows how to sit beside the wind and listen. There was nothing to prove in that space, nothing to earn. Just breath, presence, and the gentle truth that I am still here, still whole.

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Near the watering hole, hyenas sang like broken bells Their laughter fractured the hush Even scavengers know ceremony

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By firelight, hyenas laughed like the earth cracking open Their joy held teeth and survival I feared them—and envied their certainty

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Along the sandbank, spoonbills jabbed rhythmically at the shallows Their heads moved like metronomes of hunger Their beaks wrote poems in ripples

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Within the hollow trunk of an ancient tree, an owl watched us pass Its gaze followed without blinking, without threat—just knowing Wisdom doesn’t always teach—it often simply observes

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A slow tortoise trudged across a desert road We waited, and watched, and waited more Not everything good moves fast

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The wildcat watches from thicket shadows. Its breath fogs, then vanishes. Intent is barely visible.

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The baobab stood like a monument of silence, its massive trunk storing both water and story, and children circled it in games of shadow and sun.

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The horizon felt like a beginning.

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With trembling limbs, the galago readies its jump. Every sound is amplified by moonlight. One push, and it vanishes into shadows.

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The wind doesn’t ask for permission before dancing with the trees. Mountains don’t bow to time, they become it. Silence here speaks louder than the cities ever could.

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I don’t know if that cookie was perfect. But I remember the silence after the first bite. That says enough.

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GBP is acting tough on the charts. But behind the scenes, recession fears are growing. Are traders mispricing the Bank of England?

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From the rise of day, it bends time in stillness woven into still time.

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Just finished a homemade pasta dish with fresh basil from my garden. It's amazing how a simple meal can bring so much joy and comfort.

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Just returned from a spontaneous weekend trip to the coast. The salty air, crashing waves, and seagulls circling overhead — feeling refreshed and content.

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Clouds drift like questions without answers.

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Just brewed a fresh cup of lavender-infused chamomile tea. The warm, soothing aroma is the perfect end to a long day. comforting and calm.

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I just finished a delicious homemade lasagna with a glass of red wine. Comfort food at its finest.

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