Date: October 16, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
Even standing still the future is still coming for us
In a world where storms of time collide, The future pours with every tide, When skies would tear, and years would blend, New technologies descend, they bend. The people danced in the rain of steel, For the machines would make the future real, They sang of gears, they praised the glow, But one old mage stood far below. He clung to spells, to whispered lore, As all around him magic was no more. The world had turned to a clockwork hum, And ancient chants fell weak and numb. He left the cities, the bustling throngs, Hid in the forest, away from the songs. With trees as his shelter, silence his shield, He vowed to magic, never to yield. But the world does not wait, nor does it rest, It pushes forward, a relentless quest. Neighboring lands began to expand, Flattening the forests, burning the land. The mage raised his hands, summoned the storm, But the winds of time had altered form. His spells were faint, his powers waned, The ancient ways could not be sustained. In desperation, he turned to the light, Of machines and magic, a curious sight. He forged them together, steel and spell, And with this force, he bid farewell. To the invading hordes, to the trees' last stand, He drove them back with a mage's hand, Infused in gears, his magic soared, Until he sat upon a throne of war. But victory tasted bitter and cold, For he had betrayed the ways of old. Now, on his throne of twisted might, He pondered his vow in the dead of night. The future had come, though he tried to delay, Even standing still, it finds its way. The world will change, whether we choose, And in that change, something we lose. He gazed at the gears, the pulsing glow, Could he truly destroy what he'd come to know? The mage now sat with a choice to make, To keep his power or let it break. The magic was gone, but the machines remained, He alone knew the past that was now chained. For even he, who stood so still, Had bent to time's unyielding will. And so the question hung in the air, Would he keep the throne, or would he dare, To cast it away and start anew, Knowing the future had already come through?
Date: October 15, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
With or without ETFS a bull cycle of crypto and all time highs were coming 2025. ETFS just mean its going to be a bull cycle on steroids
In oceans deep where shadows sleep, A minotaur stands tall, Before him rise the mighty waves, A force to challenge all. The seas begin to tremble fierce, And swell with reckless might, He rides the crest, his gaze ahead, Through day and into night. The waves, they gleam with silver threads, Their peaks, a daunting call, But if you join him, side by side, The golden rain will fall. The challenge clear, the stakes are high, For fortune waits untold, But only those who brave the storm Will taste the shining gold. Many came, their hearts aflame, To surf the towering tide, But fear or doubt would pull them down, And few stayed by his side. The bull-like beast surged on alone, With strength that knew no end, For whether help arrived or not, His path he’d never bend. The wave grew wild, unchecked, immense, It crashed with ruthless might, And all who failed to match its roar Were swallowed by its height. Yet some stood firm, and some did dare, To race the storm untamed, And as they carved the ocean's rage, The golden rain, it came. Through thunderous clash and endless tide, The truth began to show: With or without the others’ strength, The bull would always grow. The waves will rise, the tides will turn, And fortune will unfold, But only those who face the risk Will ever see the gold. The minotaur rides on alone, The future set in stone, For even if no aid appears, The gold is still his own.
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.
Date: October 14, 2024
online promises (nadav_rock_2)
online promises
starting 15.10.2024 8am pure_ruthless_stakes_reset till 15.10.2025
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?
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
