At one's fingertips...
Does it happen to you? When the world becomes clear in an instant. But only at that moment. It's like the matrix collapses, and you see everything so crystal clear that you can do anything. It's really a moment of truth.
You can do anything.
I believe that. Sincerely. A lot of people will think that's infantile. I'm not offended, they're right too, we're just in different worlds. But nobody's going to listen to me now. Right?
I've been carrying this around for a week to say it now between the lines.
Or just in these lines, if I can....
Notice how we catch every breath when the powerful whisper? When Elon makes a tweet or two of nonsense, and we get excited... He can't be wrong. God has descended to mortals. Just follow it.
Just be with him...
Warren Buffett is as critical of crypto as my mother. But Warren is more important on this issue, he has billions. And in fact there is almost no difference, but not for us...
Maybe I'm missing something, because Hive works exactly the same way. The whale chase I see every day tells me that. There's almost nothing for an introvert to do here. It's a path to nowhere. But I'm not an introvert, it's just that my parents raised me in a peculiar way... I know this now, because I see how my younger brother acts. We are totally different, but words of love or appreciation or hugs are given through pain. It's like every passerby will take advantage of it. And that's pretty much what happens. He will take advantage....
That's how a close circle can unwittingly become a random passerby...
That's how I stop understanding my own brother at times.
If it weren't for Hive now, all these thoughts would be buried in a glass of alcohol and never appear. Sometimes I think it would have been better. A madman should talk to Napoleon and Cleopatra in a separate room until he is understandable and comfortable.
For everyone.
Apparently that's not my way.
I quit Web2 when it was my own brother who didn't appreciate the last post. Fuck, my own brother. And here were my best thoughts at the time. This is the moment when the ground beneath your feet goes away, and you have to choose who you are. (and who are you?)
So I've given up on everything I like. But writing is probably the last thing I enjoy. Now I understand writers who wrote in the desk. When, in our country, the authorities put in jail for the wrong words, thoughts, actions. That's different... But I understand.
It's all on my fingertips, too.
I don't need body tattoos when everything is stamped on my body, and it itches every day. My mistakes come to me in my dreams daily, my victories long forgotten by everyone but me. But our memories are very short. I envy this train of mindless success of different periods of life. They have everything ahead of them...
So many interesting things await us tomorrow).
And today Napoleon is waiting for me, he has a problem with Russia. It's strange that this problem is constant, huh? I suspect it will be a problem 100 to 200 years from now. We've been boiling in a separate cauldron for so long that the world nods its head but doesn't understand us. My brother nods, but doesn't give a shit about understanding me or listening to me. He didn't even finish that post I was talking about, what do you think? I don't get my hopes up anymore... But I believe... Yes, I have a private room.
Where the peace is today.
Where Putin is an asshole.
Lavrov is an idiot.
Lukashenko is a fucking buffoon.
And brother is worse than enemy....
Welcome to my world!
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