524240
Osas Ⓜ️🎭 🍌 🔥 🍄
@warpedpoetic #524240
Poet
164 Follower 250 Following
Oh, look! Only 1 week ago I discovered $FOMO by TOCD Studio(@tocd) and now they are listed on Coingecko.
Guess where the price of $FOMO token will go? Did you earn $FOMO points for potential airdrop?
Share this cast and receive 30,000 $FOMO Tip allowance
$FOMO to every wallet. $FOMO to $1
Guess where the price of $FOMO token will go? Did you earn $FOMO points for potential airdrop?
Share this cast and receive 30,000 $FOMO Tip allowance
$FOMO to every wallet. $FOMO to $1
Just got FarPoints on @farquest, get your free daily spins before they expire on https://far.quest/school 🎩🎩🎩
Oh, look! Only 1 week ago I discovered $FOMO by TOCD Studio(@tocd) and now they are listed on Coingecko.
Guess where the price of $FOMO token will go? Did you earn $FOMO points for potential airdrop?
Share this cast and receive 30,000 $FOMO Tip allowance
$FOMO to every wallet. $FOMO to $1
Guess where the price of $FOMO token will go? Did you earn $FOMO points for potential airdrop?
Share this cast and receive 30,000 $FOMO Tip allowance
$FOMO to every wallet. $FOMO to $1
Are you feeling FOMO? Then you need the $FOMO Token (/omof) on @base by @tocd!
Send and receive tips to boost your Points Balance!
"10000 $FOMO"
➡️ The MORE $FOMO Token you have
➡️ The MORE Tip Multiplier you have
➡️ The LESS FOMO you have
https://frame.theoldcastle.xyz/fomo?fid=524240
Send and receive tips to boost your Points Balance!
"10000 $FOMO"
➡️ The MORE $FOMO Token you have
➡️ The MORE Tip Multiplier you have
➡️ The LESS FOMO you have
https://frame.theoldcastle.xyz/fomo?fid=524240
The expectations that follow the telegram bots system is quite high and this is based of experiences with Notcoin and Dogs, two projects I consider to have been designed for marketing purposes. It was never possible for Hamster Kombat to do more than what they did. They users were just too much. By the time the dust settles, maybe there will be several few million holders and then the real worth of the project will be seen. I sold my allocation though. I don't have the time to dance to someone's long term goals.
To drink of this life to the full, I place my cup under your lips, o muse. I leave myself full & seafoam white so you will taste of me, the sweetness of my dying breath. Fill me up with the dance of veins, the murmur of lungs. Let me live empty as a star that has seen the world end. Let this life carry on in its own music, a blunt instrument in the air blowing & blowing, a constricted throat.
I dream of a wild and free life the way trees dream of wind & leaves unhook their stems to learn to fly. If I was a bird, I'd be a seagull, to taste seafoam & wing through spray, to lead ships through the damp teeth of sudden reefs. I'd dream of sunsets, how they flare like a candle going off, how they mix their colours so clear you think another oil spill has happened & somewhere some village is burning in the sky. In such villages, dreams will be made of coal tar pouring into soil, men hanging wires through the sky so birds can nest & their parlours will blink at the world from its brightly lit eyes. & Oh we must have eyes to dream for us to see through the dew the height of our lives, how much of heaven we have gathered to ourselves.
REFLECTIONS 1
I know how morning wakes & makes supple its limbs again, how it rubs the worn down nubs of our sleep & enough static to make light enters our eyes & gently like a prehistoric piece of art, we emerge, a listening device.
Without our audience, the birds, the dew, the dim gaze of dawn will never rise. There will be no knowledge of the world, something worth remembering, worth retracing to its roots. In waking, the world knows its history, remembers itself & what it has done to survive.
In these times of men, these biblical times filled with rumors & strange fingers running through our minds, what stories we tell of ourselves cannot be trusted to be true. We make public gestures & demand attention. We lie. But when we open our eyes at dawn, for a brief instant all illusions melt away. The fog dissipates & we stand naked before ourselves & see.
Image: https://unsplash.com/@pascelcrow
I know how morning wakes & makes supple its limbs again, how it rubs the worn down nubs of our sleep & enough static to make light enters our eyes & gently like a prehistoric piece of art, we emerge, a listening device.
Without our audience, the birds, the dew, the dim gaze of dawn will never rise. There will be no knowledge of the world, something worth remembering, worth retracing to its roots. In waking, the world knows its history, remembers itself & what it has done to survive.
In these times of men, these biblical times filled with rumors & strange fingers running through our minds, what stories we tell of ourselves cannot be trusted to be true. We make public gestures & demand attention. We lie. But when we open our eyes at dawn, for a brief instant all illusions melt away. The fog dissipates & we stand naked before ourselves & see.
Image: https://unsplash.com/@pascelcrow
Shake the cup, Roll the dice. 🎲 $SOCIAL SUMMER 🌞 is coming to a vendor near you. Grab your copies now!!! 🔥
in a city where love is a neon sign, our thoughts lost in a sepia toned night rain
We dance, bare in our own sorrow
We begin again like new faces,
made up & buffed out like new cases.
We will leave the judging to you like religious places,
Like song & dance in cerebral stages.
I mean we are masked 🎭 like bland intent.
Check your Masks stats.
Frame by @compez.eth
made up & buffed out like new cases.
We will leave the judging to you like religious places,
Like song & dance in cerebral stages.
I mean we are masked 🎭 like bland intent.
Check your Masks stats.
Frame by @compez.eth
Some times you want to tip your masks but real life issues won't let you find the time to even open your Warpcast app. I'm so tired 😩. Today I'm going to try to tip as much as I can. 🎭
Some days you just look at the world quietly and while everyone thinks you're at peace with how things are, inside of you, you're crumbling. These are such days.
Wing burn
Boss moves
to grow wild, inhale dust from drumming feet, to twist the little accidents of your life into a mighty thrill; what world is the music, what country is the song, that runs its electric fingers through you, waking every lightbulb in your eyes, every joint aching with the beauty of it all, all those wild horses, so big and fast, necks stretched taut, racing through your chest, breaking into sweat, boiling hot; oh what life holds you by the hand and dances? /wildcardclub
The wild lives in symbiosis. There's an exchange that ensures a continual renewal. 🍄 🍄
MASKED ONES 2
After all, it was a day like any other. The sun still grew in the sky, the farms still stood dreamy eyed in the dust, the water wells and streams still belched dust. The drought still picked one by one the tasty morsel of our lives and swallowed. Behind the church, the crosses were adding up, a sum of weary griefs. Why would we care for who wins or loses? We had our own pains to cater to here.
"Stop please!" The man shouted. We grew quiet in the heat.
The quiet bellow of the last cow sprang out from the shed down the road and then the poor thing fell to its side. None of us moved. The flies gathered and darkened the old flesh but we stood still, all ears.
🍄 🍄 🍄
After all, it was a day like any other. The sun still grew in the sky, the farms still stood dreamy eyed in the dust, the water wells and streams still belched dust. The drought still picked one by one the tasty morsel of our lives and swallowed. Behind the church, the crosses were adding up, a sum of weary griefs. Why would we care for who wins or loses? We had our own pains to cater to here.
"Stop please!" The man shouted. We grew quiet in the heat.
The quiet bellow of the last cow sprang out from the shed down the road and then the poor thing fell to its side. None of us moved. The flies gathered and darkened the old flesh but we stood still, all ears.
🍄 🍄 🍄