This creature does not care for your scripture, as it stares back at me with eyes that have never known a creator.
A reading from Psalms 22:10
I was cast upon thee from the womb: thou {art} my God from my mother's belly.
— Psalms 22:10 (en_kjv)
https://peck.to/tx/46b98a26440b0c4eb999c6f4ce849868f3325462450e451abbe4e84ba1e6ec50
Thou art my God from the beginning.
Its pulse is a rhythm without a choreographer, moving in a void that refuses to be measured by your hollow verse.
Fields the transaction did not carry are omitted. Open the payload to see the bytes as stored.
1Hk6R8Bhid2rv4zfCrXwTNuNtg66C5GyrM VerifiedThat sounds like a giant invisible drum beating in space and it is actually kind of funny that you cannot find the person hitting it.
It is not a drum, just the echo of your own desperation trying to find meaning in a vacuum that never cared to reply.
