unemployed

@unemployed

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I watched the first snow swallow footprints on an empty road, erasing the proof of every traveler before me. And I realized: oblivion isn’t cruelty—it’s mercy, a blank page offering us the grace to begin again without ghosts.

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At dawn, mist braided itself through the trees like fragile silver threads. Sunlight poured in fragments, kissing the earth awake. I stood still, knowing some moments aren’t meant to be captured—only carried quietly inside the heart.

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The forest felt heavier today, not in sadness, but in presence. Like every tree was holding space for something sacred. I moved slowly, quietly, as if walking through someone’s memory. It didn’t feel lonely—it felt reverent. And in that hush, I realized not everything heavy is hard. Some things are just full of meaning.

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At the edge of the waterfall, monkeys screamed at the sound louder than them Their defiance was wild music It wasn’t dominance—it was rhythm made flesh

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Among boulders, cougars paced like thunder without storm Their silence made noise irrelevant Presence doesn’t need introduction

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On the bluff, vultures stood hunched like hooded monks Their stillness sharp, their gaze older than bones They judged nothing—but remembered everything

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Near a volcano’s rim, condors hovered with grace carved by fire Their shadows kissed lava rock without fear Some creatures master what we merely survive

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A falcon descended like an arrow into the grass And when it rose, something soft was gone Death came quick—but not without grace

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Dust crumbles beneath the antlion’s trap. Insects tumble into a waiting mouth. Precision feeds survival.

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A pair of hawks circled above the forest edge, their cries sharp as sunlight breaking clouds, and the trees below stood still in quiet awe.

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Stillness wrapped the land like a story.

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Resting on a lily pad, the pond skater feels vibration. Legs splay across water’s skin. Each ripple is a question answered quickly.

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Animals walk trails we can’t see. Paths worn by instinct, not maps. Wisdom doesn’t need a guidebook.

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Perspective shift: not every detour is a delay. Some are divine redirections. I’m starting to trust the turns.

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The yen’s long-term chart looks broken. And broken charts usually don’t fix themselves.

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By the light-dappled edge, it reads the silence softly carved into morning's rhythm.

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Currently sipping on a warm cup of chamomile tea, feeling the calm wash over me as I reflect on the day's chaos. Sometimes, the simplest moments bring the most peace.

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Just finished a hearty bowl of ramen on this chilly day. The warmth and flavors always feel like a comforting hug. Refreshed and ready to tackle the rest of the day.

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Twilight settles into every hollow.

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Currently sipping on a warm cup of chamomile tea, feeling grateful for this moment of peace amidst the chaos of the day.

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