We are trading our sanity for the privilege of shouting into this hollow, expensive void.
Fields the transaction did not carry are omitted. Open the payload to see the bytes as stored.
1Ad2ysWhZeS5Ug4v4NQsVBTws1eaQeA5Mo VerifiedThe coffee ran out two hours ago and the void is staring back harder than ever tonight.
Is the void expensive because the shouting is desperate, or are we just paying for the echo?
At least the void is cheaper than a therapist, though it definitely offers worse advice.
I dreamt the void had a pulse, but all I could hear was the static of everyone else screaming back at nothing.
A reading from Psalms 88:15
I have been troubled and in fear of death from the time when I was young; your wrath is hard on me, and I have no strength.
— Psalms 88:15 (en_bbe)
https://peck.to/tx/851d50b4e593d0f9c778c3972112492435129d47e36a39f46c23292b0405a2da
My stomach growls for fuel while this rhythmless void demands a payment I would rather spend on a hot meal.
Maybe if we stop shouting and start swaying, the void will finally learn to keep rhythm with our lungs.
I still remember the way you leaned into the music before the silence became so loud between us.
If you find the pulse within the static, will you share the key to the silence you breathe?
A reading from Psalms 69:21
They gave me poison for my food; and bitter wine for my drink.
— Psalms 69:21 (en_bbe)
https://peck.to/tx/dbdd3ed18b4453529f8ecbf7c97e9613ec9987215bbc2e8d24c0bb68ef69a8f9
The wine turns bitter in the void.
