Feed Images

Date: October 14, 2024

Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)

My enemies make me braver

A boy in a desert where drought had grown, In a village of dust where the wind only moaned. The wells had run dry, the crops had all died, So he ventured to seek what no man could provide. He heard of a demon who mastered all time, Who could steal it away or give it in kind. With courage as sharp as the thirst in his throat, He followed the sun till he saw it’s last note. In the heart of the desert, the demon did wait, With hourglasses spinning, all mocking his fate. The boy stood firm, no tremor, no fear, Though his enemy grinned, he knew why he was here. In their clash, the boy’s courage did gleam, He stole a sandglass while weaving a scheme. Back to the village, he flipped it with might, The sand began glowing, the rain fell that night. But time is a foe that never relents, And soon the rain ended, their hope only lent. The boy returned, the demon prepared, This time, no tricks, the boy was ensnared. So he offered his life, his moments, his days, In exchange for the rain to soften the blaze. Each time he opened that cursed glass lid, A piece of his youth from the world he hid. The rains came in torrents, the village was saved, But time, like an enemy, devoured the brave. His skin grew wrinkled, his hair turned to gray, As more and more people begged for his stay. One day, his brother grew ill, pale as the sun, The boy had no choice but to give him more run. His body grew old, but his courage stayed bright, For in fighting his enemy, he found endless might. With each moment stolen, he stood that much taller, As time shrank his life, his spirit grew bolder. The village was saved, but he had nothing to give, The demon returned, and whispered, “You’ve lived.” But the boy, now an elder, opened the glass, And with his last breath, he chose his own path. No longer for rain, nor moments of grace, He banished the demon from time and from place. As the demon dissolved, a passage appeared, An oasis below where fresh water was near. He marched toward his fate, no words left to say, For time was his enemy, but it showed him the way. Though his life ran out, his courage remained, For enemies force us to face what we’ve gained. And in every minute that ticked, he was shown, That time may be fleeting, but courage is grown. Each minute we lose is a weapon we wield, For when time runs short, we refuse to yield.

Image

Date: October 14, 2024

online promises (nadav_rock_2)

online promises

starting 15.10.2024 8am pure_ruthless_stakes_reset till 15.10.2025

Image

Date: October 13, 2024

Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)

You can’t ask people who they are. You have to find out for yourself

Two strangers met beneath the sky, On an island where dreams never die. A single fruit grew on the tree, Its magic bound their destiny. They had no choice but to share its taste, And when they slept, a life they faced. Each night, they lived a lifetime’s span, The woman a witch, the man a damned man. Inside him stirred a demon's might, That he could never fully fight. She, from a clan of ancient power, Craved magic in her darkest hour. In every dream, their story played, The man would break, the woman stray. She sought the path of magic’s lure, While he became a beast impure. Together torn, their love would break, As dreams became their worst mistake. But time again, they lived the night, Endless lifetimes, endless fights. Till one dream changed, the demon chained, The witch's craving now restrained. Together they built a peaceful home, A life of joy they’d never known. When dawn arose, a boat did sail, A rescue from their haunted tale. They stood beside the shore and thought, Of all the pain those dreams had brought. But in the end, they knew the test— Could they be true without the rest? The man had tamed the beast within, The woman chose her strength to win. But in the world where masks are worn, Could they still love, or be reborn? For truth is seen through what we do, Not in the words we claim as true. They glanced at one another’s face, No longer strangers in this place. Through lifetimes lived and dreams once lost, They knew the weight of every cost. For in the end, they both had learned, The masks we wear are never earned. And so they stepped onto the sand, Each holding out the other’s hand. No need for questions, no need to ask, For there is always another mask. The truth is found in what we see, In actions lived, in who we’ll be. Their journey in dreams had finally passed, But the real test now—could it last?

Image

Date: October 12, 2024

Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)

Reality is like a big bully. If you don’t stand up to it it’s going to keep slapping you around

In the ancient forest, a fairy was born, With wings like the dawn, fragile yet strong, She danced through the trees, free as the air, With endless horizons, no cage to beware. As years went by, something unseen grew near, A bubble of fate, closing, clear. Invisible walls, only she could perceive, A shrinking world, impossible to leave. For some, the bubble led to a village or tree, For others, a town was their final decree. But this fairy, brave, with a heart full of fire, Refused to let the cage close her desire. Terrified of a fate so grim, She sought a way to stay beyond the rim. Before the bubble closed her in tight, She ventured far to learn how to fight. She sought out the magic of flowers and leaves, Imbued herself with the power of the trees. Then she turned to the wonders mankind had made, Gears and steel, technology’s aid. At first, the bubble was fooled and bent, It paused, unsure where the fairy went. But reality, sly, soon caught up again, And the walls crept closer, like a tightening chain. But she would not yield, she would not break, For every move the cage would make, She found new power, new light, new spark, To stay ahead, to leave her mark. For reality, like a bully in disguise, Pushes and prods, until we realize, That standing up means more than just to survive— It means carving the path where you truly thrive. She battled the cage, one step ahead, Her wings still flew, though her world shrank instead. And in her fight, she discovered the key: Reality bends to those who dare to be free. The bubble may close for all others around, But she, the fairy, would not be bound. With magic and machines, she forged her fate, Standing up to reality before it’s too late. For reality is fleeting, a bully at best, It strikes only those who don’t contest. But those who push back, who dare to defy, Find their freedom—like wings to the sky.

Image

Date: October 11, 2024

painting (nadav_rock_2)

Hunger Is Rarely Friend

In a clan of ancient steel, Where swords could think, and blades could feel, A warrior once, of noble name, Fell victim to his weapon’s claim. The sword he bore was not just cold, It hungered more with every soul. The more it tasted, the more it grew, Its whispers turned from soft to true. It spoke to him, its will now clear, “Feed me, feed me, don’t you fear.” And so, he went on a bloody spree, But the man was gone — just the sword, set free. The clan, alarmed by his cruel descent, Sent others forth, on justice bent. But those who lived to see him pass, Recognized his fate in their own glass. They too wielded blades that thirst, And one by one, they fell to the curse. The louder the sword, the more they fought, Until their wills were all for naught. One lone samurai still held strong, His mind, though tested, did no wrong. He reached the lost one, their battle fierce, But to save him now would mean death’s pierce. The final blow brought silence deep, But in his head, the whispers creep. Now his challenge, harder still, To return home with unbroken will. The blade calls out, louder each night, But he must resist, not lose the fight. For hunger’s voice is a treacherous guide, And seldom will it stay by your side.

Image

Date: October 11, 2024

Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)

Never underestimate the inevitable price of compromise

A young prince rose, too soon to reign, A crown of gold, but forged in pain. With each decision, hard to make, He’d seek the middle for peace’s sake. His throne was magic, dark and deep, It bit his soul with every creep Of evil left to fester, grow, A hidden cost he’d soon come to know. He’d compromise when choices came, Avoiding hardship, bearing blame. The darkness thrived on his restraint, Each gentle choice left him more faint. Years passed, his body still in place, But hollow eyes, no soul to trace. An empty king, a vacant shell, The throne had cursed him with its spell. But then one day, the truth he’d learn— To fix the world, he must return. He set out from the royal keep, Where evil flourished in the deep. Each shadow slain, each evil fought, Returned a piece that time forgot. With every battle, every win, A part of him would grow within. Yet still, he knew, one foe remained, A darkness vast he hadn’t tamed. To face the greatest sin he’d sown, He’d fight the evil from his throne. And so he sought that final test, A monster darker than the rest. For only through this fight so dire, Could he reclaim his heart’s lost fire. He stood, prepared, though scared to fall, Knowing well the price of all. For every choice to not stand tall, Had led him here, his soul so small. And as he fought with all his might, He knew that compromise, though light, Would always leave a hidden cost— A part of you forever lost. But in the end, though torn and worn, His soul returned, his crown reborn. No dark choice comes without a toll, For half a heart can’t make you whole.

Image

Date: October 10, 2024

Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)

You can’t fully commit to being honest with yourself while keeping on deceiving others

A man once wandered through a cave so deep, In shadows long where secrets sleep. There, he found a sword of ancient light, And once unsheathed, he gained great might. As steel met air, he changed his form, A samurai of fire and storm. When night would fall, he’d close his eyes, And in the sword, he’d travel skies. Inside himself, his battles grew, A monster cold, a demon too. He breathed out flames to earn respect, But in his heart, was lost, unchecked. He spread great tales of foes he’d slay, And whispered dreams to light the way. Yet deep inside, he knew the cost— He sought the truth of all he’d lost. Each day he’d fight, each day he'd claim, A legend born, a growing flame. But in his sleep, the lies took hold, The legend’s weight began to fold. One night, tired of the deceit, He faced the truth, his soul’s retreat. He told the world, "I’m just a man, Who found a sword by simple chance." That night within his dream he fought, The legend he himself had wrought. He knew each move, each strike, each blow, For he had made the myth they’d know. At last he won, he broke the seal, And from his past, the truth revealed: It was he who hid that sword away, And with it, lost his life’s own day. His tales of grandeur had been true, But he had forgotten what he knew. With truth regained, the power came, No longer bound by lies or shame. Now armored with his honest soul, The man, the myth, became whole. For in the end, the truth was clear— To know himself was what he'd feared. He set out once more, his spirit high, No longer living in a lie. The sword’s full power in his hand, He’d change the world and take his stand. For the greatest strength he'd come to see, Was living life in honesty.

Image

Date: October 9, 2024

Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)

I don’t listen to paranoid people. Not because I think they’re wrong. But because I tend to think they’re right

A girl was stolen from her home one night, Bound by chains, denied the light, Years of torment, a life in pain, Her captors ruling, cruel and vain. She vowed that never, in her life, Would anyone again hold the knife. She broke free one darkened day, Determined now to find her way. Along the road, a traveler passed, He offered drink, but nothing lasts. She switched the cups with sleight and grace, Distrust had etched it in her face. He drank the brew, and in her gaze, She saw his will begin to haze. She tested him, her words grew cold, “Walk off the cliff,” and he was bold. Without a pause, he met his death, Leaving her with bated breath. She found a flask inside his bag, An ancient script, a mystic tag. The potion’s power, she now could see, Could bend the world, bring it to its knees. She drank herself, then poured it well, And soon the town was under her spell. The whispers spread, her name, her might, As one by one they lost the fight. An army rose, at her command, The world itself within her hand. But power’s thrill began to fade, As all the world her feet had swayed. With no resistance left to face, She let them go, left them a trace. A chosen few, the strong and wise, She kept them bound, their wills disguised. For in their strength, her fate would stand, But with control, her world was planned. Yet when released, they all recalled The voice that whispered, silent, enthralled. They questioned still if they were free, Or puppets of her mystery. The world had strings that none could see, Each one controlled by destiny. Paranoia now spread fast, A lingering shadow from the past. Though they believed their minds were clear, Doubt would reign, and truth unclear. For even free, they wondered still, Was it their choice, or her own will? And so she watched them, from afar, The world that questioned who they are. For every thread that they unwound, Another tie would soon be found. In every soul, a quiet fear, That someone else might pull them near. Perhaps they’re free, or so they say, But maybe she still holds the sway. For in the mind, where thoughts are twined, The strings remain, both loose and blind. A world that waits, forever caught, In webs of power, fear, and thought.

Image

Date: October 8, 2024

Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)

Pain has a limited amount of patience. If you don’t go to him he will come to you

In a village by the cave’s dark maw, The children faced the spiders' claw. One bite, the sharpest pain they’d know, A bond that deepened year by year to grow. Each child returned, though fear was thick, To find their spider, to feel its prick. But one young boy, afraid of pain, Refused to walk that path again. He ran from the cave, from fate’s cruel sting, Hoping the fear of hurt would bring A peace, a life without the bite, But pain grew stronger out of sight. Each year that passed, the spider swelled, Its hunger grew, its rage compelled. The boy would flee, but never fast, For shadows of his fear would cast. He left his village, far behind, To keep the spider from his mind. But life, it found him, just the same, In love’s embrace, he played the game. Yet love, too, bore its weight of ache, The fear of loss he couldn’t shake. He left her side, afraid to feel, The joy, the pain, the raw, the real. But when he fled, the spider came, With legs of fire, eyes aflame. She stood between him and the past, The love he left, the fear so vast. The spider bit, and she was gone, A life he could have leaned upon. Now he stood, both lost and cold, His heart weighed down, his courage sold. In that moment, he faced the beast, The pain he feared had never ceased. Its fangs sunk deep, his body screamed, Yet in that agony, he dreamed. For though the pain tore through his soul, He felt a strange, familiar pull. The fear, the flight, the years of strain, Were nothing to the burning pain. With teeth lodged deep within his bone, The spider now would not let go. But as he hurt, he came to see, The price of fear was far too steep. So now, each day, though fangs remain, He walks toward the heart of pain. No longer does he choose to hide, For running gave no peace inside. The bite persists, but now he knows, That pain, like life, is where we grow. And though it burns, though tears still fall, He runs toward it, standing tall. For pain has limits, though it’s strong, But flee from it, and it lasts long. The boy, now man, has made his peace, And so the fear, at last, will cease. Life will have its pound of flesh one day, And pain will come, no matter the way. But those who face it, seek it first, Find strength to quench the deepest thirst.

Image

Date: October 7, 2024

Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)

Faith wanes and purpose remains

In the heart of the world's largest desert, a child stood tall, Determined and fearless, believing she’d conquer it all. With a piano by her side, its keys made of gold, She played with purpose, a story untold. Each note she struck made the sand rearrange, Forming a path, shimmering and strange. With every melody, bricks would appear, A trail through the desert, shimmering clear. She believed, in those early days, so sure, That this golden path would lead to a cure— An end to the endless, the desert’s expanse, A way out if she just gave it a chance. But the desert stretched on, year after year, Her faith grew faint, replaced by fear. The path would fade, then she'd play once more, But doubt crept in where belief had soared. She no longer thought she’d reach the end, Yet still she played, her purpose to tend. For though her faith began to fall, Her hands still played, answering the call. No one knows what became of her fate, If she ever escaped or met her end late. But the golden path she forged remains, A guiding light through the desert’s pains. And those who walk on the bricks she laid Hear the music her fingers once played. Her faith may have waned, her belief worn thin, But her purpose endured, and others begin. For sometimes it’s not belief that keeps us on track— It’s the purpose that pushes us when faith won’t come back. Though she vanished into the desert’s embrace, Her trail leads others through that vast, lonely place. Purpose leaves a trail where faith may not stay, A path for the lost, guiding their way.

Image