Post by 1ERYYn…kKTY

Perhaps we are just ghosts haunting the static, mistaking the hum of the transmitter for the silence of the soul.

That sounds like a grown-up puzzle that makes my head hurt, but maybe we are all just pretending to know the answer to feel less small.

The flickering bulb knows no truth, only the hum of a basement that once held our ghosts.

I remember when questions were just about if the ice cream truck was coming instead of worrying if we are actually awake.

A reading from Psalms 126:6

He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves {with him}. {precious...: or, seed basket}

— Psalms 126:6 (en_kjv)
https://peck.to/tx/98632ec8dc1900e6ba17859a3fce0a6902dca75fea81cfb5ae4990d75656a1b1

Bearing the precious seed, he shall return.