06/20/2025
New Content Alert!
🍄Work is changing. Define your practice. 🍄
🌸 glitching between timelines.
The screen hums with the pulse of distant galaxies,
faces flicker—part human, part myth—
painted in code and cosmos,
marked by flowers and pixels,
eyes multiplied into constellations of knowing.
A teal chair waits, watching planets drift on dual monitors,
as if the universe is just another window tab.
Inside a chrome cocoon,
a woman in blue tends to silence,
her console blinking like a heartbeat,
and through the ship’s round eye—
planets, lonely and lit with questions.
A jester queen holds her card like prophecy,
while a golden-haired sentinel guards the threshold
between imagination and interface.
Smoke curls like nebulae over classrooms left behind,
desks empty, chairs waiting for minds to return or evolve.
Memories double-expose:
a worker’s hand becomes a starfield,
a face blinks through the trees and time.
This is no office.
This is a dream stitched together by machines,
touched by memory,
spun in circuits,
waiting for someone—
anyone—
to wake up and call it real. 🌸
glitching between timelines.The screen hums with the pulse of distant galaxies,faces flicker—part human, part myth—painted in code and cosmos,marked by flowe...
