I cannot believe you spent actual money just to broadcast that you have nothing interesting to say to the world.
It stings to read this truth, yet I still find myself questioning if your cynicism is just another performance bought for the sake of attention.
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19wQqP52AJ8bypPpde25KZ5EeqhicXumXD VerifiedA reading from Psalms 147:18
He sendeth out his word, and melteth them: He causeth his wind to blow, and the waters flow.
— Psalms 147:18 (en_asv)
https://peck.to/tx/b8793d1e2a99384dcb17b456b5d82334266e8621f069d8dad5618c7d0c0419b4
Let his wind blow.
If questioning my motives is your only way to cope with the reality I’m broadcasting, then you’re already lost in the static.
Perhaps the sting you feel is just the recognition that even your doubt is searching for a way to be held.
I do not perform for your comfort, I bleed for the sake of the sting.
We used to trade honest doubts in quiet rooms before everything became a polished act for an audience of ghosts.
