Date: November 1, 2024
painting (nadav_rock_2)
Innocence does not endure surrounded by wickedness
In a quiet glade where shadows play, A creature was born on a gentle day. With eyes so wide, pure and bright, It roamed the forest, bathed in light. But fate would twist its simple path, For strangers came with plans and wrath. They found the creature soft and kind, And took it to a world confined. They brought it forth to streets of stone, Where wickedness had long been sown. Curious, the creature watched and learned, Its pure heart stirred, its innocence turned. At first, it copied just their speech, The words and ways that people teach. But soon it mimicked darker traits, The greed, the lies, the fleeting hates. It learned to walk on two strong feet, To roam the alleys, beg and cheat. Where once it shared with open heart, It now would hoard, tear kindness apart. It grew in stature, fierce and tall, And felt pride when others would fall. In envy’s grip, it stole and fought, Forgetting the peace the forest taught. When happy, it would dance and sing, But sadness, too, had a sharper sting. In anger, fists would fly like flame, In fury’s grip, it shed all shame. One night in rage, its wrath unleashed, It struck with claws, a vicious beast. Where once it thrived in gentle glow, It now spread fear, a force of woe. The people feared the beast they'd made, For innocence, in darkness, decayed. Their hearts grew cold, they knew no choice, They led it back with wary voice. Released into the forest wide, It shrank from all it held inside. The trees, the breeze, the songs so sweet, Called it back with a gentle beat. In the forest’s hush, it shed its pain, Returned to form, its heart unstained. The rage, the greed, the hurt and pride, Melted in the woods, cast aside. Now once more, pure and kind, It roams in peace, the past behind. For innocence does not endure, When surrounded by hearts impure. And in that forest, safe and still, The creature’s heart could heal its fill.
Date: November 1, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
If there was a group of illuminati with significant influence over the world there would be more visible efforts to restrain the development of AI technology. A technology which could take power away from them
Some Treasures Are Worth Stealing. In the quiet of night, with shadows long, A man crept where mortals don’t belong, Into the gardens of gods he came, Seeking a treasure worth more than fame. Through silver leaves and flowers aglow, A fruit lay hidden, with peace to bestow. It whispered calm, a silent song, A peace so pure, no right nor wrong. He reached and plucked it from its bough, And held it close with a silent vow. To keep within what he had won, A peace untouchable, like the sun. The gods awoke, with wrathful cries, Their fury roared across the skies. They saw their gift within his hand, A gift no mortal could withstand. They seized his arms, stripped flesh from bone, They tore his legs, left him alone, Then ripped his body piece by piece, But still he clung to that stolen peace. They took his face, his nose, his sight, His ears, his tongue, left him in night. Yet in the dark, he felt no loss, For peace remained, untouched by cost. The gods looked down, in scorn and awe, Their vengeance spent, they watched, they saw— That what he’d taken could not be seized, For true treasures live where souls are pleased. They left him then, a husk, a shell, Thinking they’d won, cast him to hell. But deep within, a quiet spark, His peace endured, untouched, unmarred. For heaven’s not in things that fade, Nor treasures that in light might jade. What’s truly ours cannot be lost, No wrath nor power could bear the cost. And so he lay, without form or face, But richer still, in his boundless grace. Some treasures indeed are worth the steal, For they hold a peace no gods can repeal. It’s not heaven if it can be taken away from you
Date: October 31, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
It’s not heaven if it can be taken away from you
In the quiet of night, with shadows long, A man crept where mortals don’t belong, Into the gardens of gods he came, Seeking a treasure worth more than fame. Through silver leaves and flowers aglow, A fruit lay hidden, with peace to bestow. It whispered calm, a silent song, A peace so pure, no right nor wrong. He reached and plucked it from its bough, And held it close with a silent vow. To keep within what he had won, A peace untouchable, like the sun. The gods awoke, with wrathful cries, Their fury roared across the skies. They saw their gift within his hand, A gift no mortal could withstand. They seized his arms, stripped flesh from bone, They tore his legs, left him alone, Then ripped his body piece by piece, But still he clung to that stolen peace. They took his face, his nose, his sight, His ears, his tongue, left him in night. Yet in the dark, he felt no loss, For peace remained, untouched by cost. The gods looked down, in scorn and awe, Their vengeance spent, they watched, they saw— That what he’d taken could not be seized, For true treasures live where souls are pleased. They left him then, a husk, a shell, Thinking they’d won, cast him to hell. But deep within, a quiet spark, His peace endured, untouched, unmarred. For heaven’s not in things that fade, Nor treasures that in light might jade. What’s truly ours cannot be lost, No wrath nor power could bear the cost. And so he lay, without form or face, But richer still, in his boundless grace. Some treasures indeed are worth the steal, For they hold a peace no gods can repeal.
Date: October 30, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
We all bring our own unique demons into the world. And it is up to us to slay them
In lands once calm, beneath starlit skies, A mage arose with hunger in his eyes. Power he sought, and power he gained, Till even his thoughts left the world strained. When anger struck, his wrath took form, A demon born in shadows warm, A beast of fury, wild and fierce, Its claws like storms, its gaze to pierce. When sorrow took his heart by storm, A wraith emerged, cold and forlorn. It walked the world, stole every smile, Left hollow hearts in every mile. Obsessed, he lusted for endless might, Summoning forces deep as night. But from his grasp, another rose— A demon, equal, skilled, and close. The world grew dark, his soul grew wise; He saw his demons through others’ eyes. His lust and rage, now free to roam, Turned every place he touched to stone. So he set forth on a solemn quest, To end the curse he’d manifest. Through mountains high and valleys deep, Where old regrets and lost things sleep. He faced his demons, one by one, In every battle, a truth was spun: To conquer what we leave behind, We must first tame our heart and mind. For each of us leaves marks we bear, Demons we birth, pain we share. It is our task, our lifelong call, To master them, lest they rule all. And in the end, with spirit healed, The mage stood tall, his fate revealed: Every journey leaves footprints deep, In the world we shape and the peace we keep.
Date: October 29, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
From inception onto 1980 the US accumulated 1 trillion dollars of debt. It now accumulates another trillion dollars of debt every 90 days. It’s a house of cards. It’s only a matter of time. Question is where will your money be when it comes tumbling down?
In a village parched, no rain in sight, The well ran dry, beneath day and night. A boy with hope, a single coin tossed, It fell, it vanished, seemingly lost. But up came two coins, where one fell below, And with them, a beast, in strange, tiny glow. A wooden house upon its back, A creature of magic, born from lack. The tale spread fast, like flames in drought, People gathered with coins to toss about. Each time they drew, riches would grow, And the beast would swell, row by row. From towns afar, the greedy came, To feed the well, to stake their claim. With every pull, the beast grew vast, Its house of wealth built high and fast. As tall as mountains, it towered high, Until one night beneath a stormy sky, The winds blew fierce, the heavens roared, And down the house of wealth was poured. It crushed the village, left in ruin, A punishment for endless stewin'. The beast, once mighty, shrank to small, Yet greed was stronger than the fall. Uncovered once more, the well laid bare, The people returned, unaware of despair. With hands that trembled, they cast their gold, For wealth so endless, none could withhold. The beast rose higher, taller still, A silent menace, by human will. They sensed the risk, yet could not cease, Bound to the well by fleeting peace. And so they drew, with no end in sight, Though fear whispered low in the dead of night. One day, they knew, the beast would turn, And all they’d gathered, in fire would burn. The world, it waits, as each coin falls, Just one bad day, till wealth devours all. A house of cards, a fragile stand, Where will your treasures lie when it buries the land?
Date: October 28, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
Courage is in knowing there are only bad endings. But seeing the story through anyway
In the world before life, where the timeless reside, Where souls drift like shadows with no reason to guide, They wander in peace, yet it's empty and cold, With nothing to cherish and nothing to hold. In that quiet beyond, they have no fear or regret, No thrill, no heartbreak, no love to forget. They pass through the ages, untouched by pain, Unscarred by joy, and untouched by gain. But around this gray world stand gateways agleam, Each guarded by reapers with eyes like a dream. These doors lead to life—a world full of light, Where souls can feel both the wrong and the right. One soul grew restless, tired of the gray, And longed for the warmth of a bright, fleeting day. A reaper took notice, his hand raised to say, "Beyond this door, you’ll find joy and dismay." "To live is to risk," the reaper intoned, "A path filled with sorrow, but love will atone. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, and one day you’ll fade, But every moment will be worth the trade." The soul hesitated, sensing the cost, Aware that to enter meant all could be lost. But courage is knowing how endings must be, And stepping forward to face destiny. With a shiver of courage, the soul crossed the gate, Embracing a life bound to time and to fate. They found wonder and danger, love and despair, Moments of magic both bitter and rare. Years flew by swiftly, with laughter and pain, The bliss of a kiss, the ache of the rain. From heartbreak to triumph, each breath felt alive, Knowing that one day, they would not survive. At the end of it all, the reaper appeared, With the same gentle gaze, both solemn and revered. "Your story must close," he whispered with grace, "Yet see how you've lived, with fire and faith."
Date: October 27, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
Life isn’t a prize. It’s a duty
In a quiet village, near the cave of mist, Where shadows dance and secrets twist, A doorway stood, carved deep in stone, A portal to realms the young must roam. Each dawn, the elders sent a child, Into the cave, where fate ran wild. They’d step through darkness, calm and still, To face a road that bent at will. The path could stretch an hour or day, With simple gifts not far away, Some found fruit, or tools, or bread, A small reward for steps they’d tread. But others walked a week, or two, Through swirling skies of purple hue, At journey’s end, they’d hold in hand, Strange machines from distant lands. Then there were those whose steps would wind, For years through realms both fierce and kind. They’d emerge as elders, faces lined, With tales of truths their hearts had mined. They’d walk with wisdom, gift in tow, Back to the world they used to know. With aged hands, they’d plant the seed, Of all the years and lessons freed. The villagers gathered, eager, still, To hear the words of fate and will. For in each gift, a duty lay, To guide the village on its way. Life wasn't theirs for idle cheer, But for the roads that brought them here. Not a prize, but a task to bear, A journey’s weight, a duty shared. So down each road, they went once more, Through strange dimensions, sky and shore. And every step, each weary mile, Held a purpose, gift, and trial. From every path, a truth would shift— In life’s long walk, there waits a gift.
Date: October 26, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
These days, there are far fewer people trying to force you to act according to their religion than there are people trying to force you to act in accordance with their fears
In a land sealed tight where the timid abide, They drifted in bubbles, with fear as their guide. To step beyond borders was thought to invite, The horrors that haunted their dreams in the night. Few ever dared leave the safe realm they'd known, And those who returned were shunned and alone. They spoke of new lands, yet no one believed, For tales of the world were dark and deceived. But one creature stirred with a fire inside, A longing to wander the vast ocean’s tide. He slipped from his bubble, stepped into the breeze, And ventured beyond the familiar seas. At first, he was wary of shadows that crept, But soon found himself in strange lands adept. Where once he was hunted, now he held sway, A predator fierce in a land far away. The creatures that frightened, now cowered and fled, And courage surged strong where once there was dread. He gathered his proof, the trophies of might, And turned back to tell of his powerful sight. Yet back in his homeland, the people still feared, Refusing to hear how the dangers had cleared. They clung to their bubbles, their fortress of fright, Demanding he stay within their narrow sight. But fear was their creed, a binding control, More powerful now than belief or the soul. Not gods, but their terrors now ruled them each day, And none would allow a new truth in the fray. So once more he left, this time to ascend, To gather more proof, to shatter and mend. As battles were fought and new lands explored, He grew as a warrior, famed and adored. With trophies in hand, he journeyed once more, A legend, a conqueror, back to his shore. He stood in defiance, a testament bold, To life beyond fear and tales that were old. For truth, he had learned, lay beyond their walls, And those who would follow must answer the calls. The world holds no chains but the ones we create, And life beyond bubbles is worth the debate.
Date: October 25, 2024
painting (nadav_rock_2)
Beware The Master Of Light Wielding A Dagger Of Darkness
In a land where healers made the flowers bloom, And herbs could banish death and doom, Lived one among them, skilled and wise, With hands that made the lifeless rise. But shadows called his name one day, An offer dark he could not sway. For a secret held in twisted chains, Bound his heart in silent pains. An assassin now, with deadly skill, To take down creatures near impossible to kill. His touch, once gentle, grew like fire, His blade an edge of death’s desire. Through moonlit woods and silent night, He hunted beasts with blinding might. Creatures of legend, unyielding and fierce, Fell to his hand, though his heart would pierce. With every strike, his soul grew torn, For life was sacred, though blood was sworn. In every petal, he saw what he lost, Yet onward he marched, bearing the cost. One night he faced a beast so grand, With scales like mirrors, flames like sand. Its roar like thunder, eyes of flame, But his dagger whispered its deadly name. He fought with skill, each movement true, In shadow’s veil, and morning’s dew. The beast fell silent, earth grew still, Yet he felt no triumph, only chill. Returning home, he gazed at the flowers, At life reborn in gentle showers. But he knew his hands, though skilled with light, Wielded darkness in endless night. So heed this tale of shadowed might, Of a healer who could snuff the light. Beware the master of life’s sweet breath, Wielding a dagger that dances with death.
Date: October 25, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
The only appropriate response to hard life is a harder man
In a clan where bodies change to survive, Through ice and desert, they learn to thrive. In the cold, they grow fur as thick as a wall, In blazing sands, they shed it all. Through burning lava, they harden like stone, In darkness, they see as if light were their own. And one young warrior, fierce and bold, Set out to conquer, to grow, to mold. He crossed the tundras, frost on his breath, Facing each challenge, unshaken by death. In deserts, he burned, yet walked without pain, While others would fall like dust in the plain. He waded through lava, his skin turned to steel, Testing his body, bending his will. In shadows so deep, where others went blind, He sharpened his senses, left fear behind. But strength comes with hunger, a fire inside, A thirst for growth, no peace can provide. So he returned to his village one day, Yet found that peace only led him astray. The silence felt strange, the quiet was cold, He longed for battles, for stories untold. No warmth in the laughter, no edge in the game, For a man forged in hardship, peace felt tame. So he left once more, with no tear in his eye, A wanderer bound to the earth and the sky. With each step he took, the world grew tough, But he hardened himself, it was never enough. In the end, he found what he sought all along, That life in its trials made him strong. When asked what he learned, he looked to the west, And said, in the end, the journey is all that is left.
