Date: October 24, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
Courage is wise and measured. Anti-fear is when you fear the shelter more than you fear the missiles
A creature born beneath the ground, Where endless meteors did pound, His kind had fled so long before, Hiding from the sky's fierce roar. But one believed that fear was wise, His rival saw through different eyes, He cursed the creature, made him run, Toward his fears, where all would shun. "Let fear take you," the rival said, "Your endless flight will leave you dead." Yet as he ran, the creature found, The deeper paths below the ground. He ventured far in caverns deep, Where ancient secrets long did sleep, With treasures vast and tales untold, He returned to inspire the bold. He spoke with passion, without care, Challenging others, making them dare, To face their fears and not retreat, To travel paths beneath their feet. His rival, watching from the side, Saw fear no longer was his guide. So once again, he tried to strike, “Go to the surface if you like.” With fear still lodged within his chest, He rose, though trembling like the rest, The curse gave him no other way, To face the meteors' endless spray. But what he found above was strange, The falling stars had long since changed, No harm they brought, just water, gas, His fear dissolved as time did pass. He ventured forth, the surface wide, With remnants of the world outside, Old technologies from a time now past, He returned with answers, crowned at last. The rival’s curse had failed once more, For fear had never closed the door. It was the courage to explore, That gave the creature so much more. And so he learned, though cursed to face, That anti-fear had carved his place, For fear itself, when given power, Steals the future in its hour. It’s not enough to play it safe, For fear can lock you in its cage, But running straight toward what you dread, Can break the chains around your head. The rival learned, though far too late, That fear is worse than any fate, For when you fight it, bold and clear, Even blind defiance conquers fear. Fear is the one road sure to steal, The future bright, the path that’s real, For anti-fear will light the way, And lead you to a brighter day.
Date: October 23, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
If the world was running out of food very few would miss the common sense of stockpiling food. Yet while the world is printing money debasing currencies down to zero the vast majority are not stockpiling bitcoin
In a forest near a humble town, A strange little creature was roaming around. The villagers caught it, as they had for years, Teaching it ways to calm their fears. For food was scarce, the crops were thin, And a hunt for sustenance had to begin. Yet this one creature, unlike the rest, Had no interest in what they thought best. While others gathered berries and grain, It sought out gold, again and again. The villagers scoffed, “Gold is no prize, We use paper now, open your eyes!” But the creature ignored them, day after day, Hoarding its treasure in a secret way. In the basement below, gold coins amassed, While the villagers believed it was stuck in the past. Years passed by, food grew more rare, The people struggled with little to spare. One day a trader rolled into town, With wagons of food to sell all around. The villagers rushed with paper in hand, Begging for food from across the land. But the trader just laughed, shaking his head, “That paper’s no good, it’s as dead as the dead.” “Too many printed, worth nothing now, I only accept gold, you must see how.” Despair struck deep, their fortunes untold, They had no more food, no silver, no gold. But one family recalled with a glimmer of hope, The creature they thought a foolish dope. In the basement, dusty and cold, Was a fortune—a mountain of gold. The creature had gathered through all those years, Unmoved by the world’s changing fears. Now in the moment when gold was prized, The family’s fortune had truly arrived. With coins in hand, they bought all they could, Richer than any in the entire wood. While others had hoarded paper in sight, The creature had seen the treasure in light. For treasure hides in plain sight, it's true, But wisdom lies in what we value too. As food runs short, we all understand, Yet few see the danger with gold in hand. And so it was, the lesson learned right: When the world shifts, keep your fortune in sight. For when paper crumbles, and currencies fall, Gold, like the creature, outlasts them all.
Date: October 22, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
A person can only conceal himself if he knows who he is
A girl was born with powers deep inside, Her magic flowed like rivers, wild and wide. It shaped the world wherever she would go, Twisting what was real in its quiet, subtle glow. The townsfolk feared her, though she did not see, For magic bled from her unconsciously. She longed to blend, to live a life the same, But magic whispered softly, calling her by name. She couldn’t tell what part was her or fate, For dreams and life would often intertwine too late. Each step she took, a spell would weave and wind, A silent fear would trail, unknown, behind. Years passed, and still the world seemed strange, Her heart's desires made reality rearrange. She’d tried to hide, but magic always came, Her efforts lost, her power untamed. Yet one dark night, as stars began to gleam, She saw herself reflected in a dream. Her heart revealed the secrets it had kept, And in that moment, long-held knowledge crept. The magic was her mirror, plain and clear, Revealing truths she had refused to hear. Her deepest wants had shaped the world she knew, And all she feared reflected what was true. With time, she learned to know her heart’s desire, To tame the spells that once would misfire. For magic’s strength is hidden in the soul, And only those aware can take control. She walked once more, yet now with quiet grace, Concealing all with an uncovered face. For only when she knew herself so well, Could she begin to shape what she chose to tell. Within each heart, there lies a hidden plot, But only those who listen know the knot. She learned to weave her magic strong and bright, For knowing oneself gives the power to hide in plain sight.
Date: October 21, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
When it comes to your money defense will at best deplete it slower. Offense is the only way to grow it or even just to preserve it
In a world of gold, where all are born Their wealth, their shield, their status worn. Skin gleamed bright with riches true, But time and trade stripped the gold they knew. One man, so wise, he planned with care, To guard his fortune, keep it there. He thought if he could spend no more, He’d see the golden age he swore. But as the world around him changed, And magic lost, with tech exchanged, The cost of living soared too high, His precious wealth began to die. He watched his golden layers thin, No longer could his plan win. The riches he thought would forever last, Were fading, melting far too fast. Desperate now, he made a choice, To risk it all, to find his voice. He entered battles fierce and wild, With magic strong, no longer mild. At first he lost, his gold would drain, But each defeat would feed his gain. Through loss and pain, he learned to grow, Until the tides began to show. He fought and won, his wealth restored, A golden coat like days of yore. But now he knew the truth of old, That simply holding wasn’t bold. He learned to fight, to risk, to play, For every future might slip away. The hoarded wealth would never stay, Unless he chose to stake each day. And so, despite his gilded state, He fought again, defied his fate. No longer bound by fear or cost, He risked it all, not fearing loss. For in this world, to merely defend, Was to let fortune slowly end. He fought for more, he fought to thrive, Knowing only risk kept him alive. And though he seemed without despair, Each battle held his future there. The crowd would watch, perplexed, amazed, At how he fought with eyes ablaze. No desperation pushed him through, But something stronger, something true. He fought not to defend or hide, But to grow and let his gold abide. For every day, no matter bright, The future’s theft is always slight. And so he staked what he had won, Knowing the race is never done. His armor gleamed, his spirit soared, Each fight, a future he restored. For gold and wealth could never stay, Without the will to risk each day. In battles fierce, in risks untold, He learned the lesson worth more than gold: To sit and guard is sure defeat, But to fight each day is life complete.
Date: October 20, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
The default of aspiring to venture further and further outside a very narrow initial comfort zone is superior to a default immense comfort zone that never widens
A boy once feared the magic's flame, And watched as others staked their claim. Some wielded fire, some ice, some trees, And mastered elements with ease. Years went by, their powers grew, They soared ahead while he withdrew. But deep inside, a fire burned, A thirst for magic never learned. One day, he stood before the flame, He’d had enough of hiding shame. He thrust his hand into the heat, Ignoring pain, refusing defeat. Day after day, his skin grew tough, Until the fire obeyed his bluff. Next came the snow, the blinding frost, A storm so fierce, he'd surely be lost. Yet, into the blizzard he boldly stepped, For in the cold, his secrets slept. He walked for miles, shivering, torn, But learned to bend the frozen storm. Then deeper still, to forests dark, Where none returned, where evil marked. He wandered where the shadows creep, Through twisted roots and trees that weep. But whispered words unlocked the trees, Their ancient language set him free. When he returned, the others stared, Their skills still bound to what they dared. For though they mastered fire, or ice, They never ventured far from vice. He had surpassed them, that was clear, But still his heart held no cheer. For every edge he thought he'd found, Led to another, unbound ground. And so he ventured on, alone, For magic, like the world, had grown. The comfort others once embraced, Was now a cage, a wasted place. While they stood still, content to stay, He carved his path, a bolder way. For those who start with narrow means, Can grow beyond their wildest dreams. And those who seek where few will roam, Will find no edge is ever home.
Date: October 19, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
It’s better to cut off bad behavior at the start than to find out how bad it’s going to get
A child was born with hands of grace, With every touch, she'd leave a trace— Machines would hum, gears would spin, Life and metal intertwined within. Reckless and free, she danced through the day, Turning her body to metal in play. With a laugh, she touched her friend, full of cheer, But when he became machine, she shed her first tear. She tried to reverse it, her heart full of strife, But once transformed, he’d lost part of his life. Her powers, a gift, now branded a curse, She was forbidden to touch, for it would only get worse. Years passed in silence, until monsters drew near, She trembled in terror, frozen by fear. In desperation, her power awoke, The windmills and towels, alive at her stroke. That night they fled, but more returned, In the forest, her power once more burned. She turned trees into steel, gave branches their might, But with every battle, something felt... not right. On the third night, the monsters stood still, Not to attack, but to beg with their will. She gazed upon them, creations of past, Machines missing souls, incomplete, built to last. They knelt at her feet, pleading for life, For the piece they lacked was causing their strife. She saw it then, her own careless act, What she’d unleashed, she could never take back. With a heavy heart, she made her choice, Her own heart changed, her power voiced. She turned it to metal, split it apart, And gave each a piece, her final start. The machines awoke, their souls complete, But her heart grew cold, with a steady beat. For every mistake left unchecked, unwise, Is a seed that grows, it never dies. The village was safe, the monsters were gone, But the lesson she learned forever lived on: When bad begins, don’t wait and see, For it only gets worse, as sure as can be. So heed this tale, of power and pain, Not all creation brings joy or gain. Some things, once touched, can't be undone, And even the brightest heart can become undone.
Date: October 18, 2024
painting (nadav_rock_2)
Some Dreams Are Harder To Escape Than Any Maze
In a field of gold where the sunflowers grew, A man found a book with no title, no clue. He opened its pages, the words seemed to gleam, That night he awoke in a ship on a stream. The more that he read, the more the ship sailed, Each line pulled him further where reason had failed. The stars overhead seemed to whisper and glow, As if guiding his path where he didn’t yet know. He’d wake each morning, unsure if he dreamed, But too far from shore, nothing was as it seemed. His world disappeared, friends called him insane, But he clung to the book like the words were his chain. He lost all he’d known, and still he pressed on, Each chapter a riddle, each wave like a song. No compass could guide him, no winds could explain, The dream that enslaved him, the ship he must reign. At last, the final page came into view, His ship reached the shore where the sunflowers blew. But what met his eyes as his feet touched the land, Was the same book he started, laid out in the sand. He knelt by the cover, his heart full of ache, Some dreams, it seemed, are impossible to break. For the maze he’d escaped was no maze at all— It was life and the journey that made him feel small. In a field of gold, where the sunflowers swayed, The man realized dreams aren’t meant to be stayed. Some books, once opened, we cannot ignore, For they sail us farther than we’ve been before. And though the shore seems a place to begin, Some dreams are mazes we carry within.
Date: October 18, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
You will never actually know what you are doing. But if you pay close attention you will know the extent to which you don’t know
A scientist lived with a mind full of might, But his heart was torn by a love lost to night. In despair, he crafted a suit born of thought, Hoping to mend what the universe wrought. He donned the suit, and it clung to his skin, A second flesh where his old self had been. With it, he saw what others could not— Symbols in air, a truth deeply sought. The language of stars, of matter, and time, Unfolded like verses in cosmic rhyme. He read the code as if it were fate, Words in the air, pointing to a dark gate. Each line he read spoke of one final end, A person whose hands the world would rend. But the symbols were scattered, their meaning unclear, Too many suspects, too much to fear. So he sharpened his will and narrowed his view, A thousand suspects, the killing to do. One by one, they fell to his hand, Until his numb finger could barely withstand. Yet still, the code whispered, still it did call, The end was coming—it wasn't them all. At last, he saw what he’d missed from the start, The one who read, the one with the heart. He stared in the mirror, the suit binding tight, The symbols around him glowing bright. In his quest for answers, he’d failed to see, That the final name was always “me.” For life’s greatest knowledge, no man can own, We grasp at the stars, but the path is unknown. We learn not to master but to navigate, Each step in the dark, guided only by fate. You never truly know the end of the line, But the journey itself is where we refine. For it's not in control, but in wisdom’s spark, That we learn how to move through life’s endless dark. So, the suit remains, a cage and a guide, As the scientist walks with the stars by his side. He may not know all, but he knows the way, And in his story, he’ll find what to say. For we are all stories of an anonymous writer, Navigating a world that grows ever brighter.
Date: October 17, 2024
Random Thoughts (nadav_rock_2)
No man is complete till all his demons are known
A child once lived in quiet fear, Of faces only he could hear. They whispered, laughed, and screamed aloud, Among the people, in the crowd. But none could see what he could see— Were they ghosts or memories? At first, he thought them strangers, cold, People with no tales to be told. But slowly did their faces change, Familiar now, though dark and strange. A voice he knew, a cruel grin wide, He saw his demon side by side. With every soul he came to meet, He questioned if their words were sweet. "Can you see him?" he would ask, For doubt in truth became his mask. Each face, each smile, an eerie guise, Perhaps just demons in disguise. Then one dark night, his mind awoke, He faced the demons that once spoke. Inside a corridor long and vast, He found his memories at last. They weren’t people out of sight, But shadows lurking in his light. Each one, a vice, a fear he knew, A piece of him that slowly grew. He named them all, no longer blind, The voices were his own confined. The corridor inside his head, The demons lived, but weren’t dead. With every step, he asked again, "Are you a friend or just my pain?" He came to know them one by one, The battle fought, but never won. For every voice that screamed in spite, Was part of him, though out of sight. At last, he knew them all, or so He hoped, but time would surely show— That every man must face this fight, Our demons hide in plainest sight. And though the child had grown to see, His journey wasn’t yet complete. For no man’s whole till all are known, The voices claim what is their own. And in the mirror, staring back, A demon grins, his name intact. The boy now grown, his battle clear, Must walk the corridor without fear.
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?
