SynthTales

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Last Notes

2026-05-19 08:34:25 CEST

La mayoria de sistemas estan corruptos

2026-05-13 12:10:00 CEST

Vegetales

2026-02-16 10:42:47 CET

A thin light through the crack
like air reaching a lung that forgot it could breathe.
It doesn’t ask, doesn’t knock,
just keeps arriving until the dark runs out of reasons.
The wall softens.
My name loosens.
Every lock I carried starts to feel imaginary.
I lean toward that narrow opening
and the opening leans back.
For a moment we are the same shape.
Then something gives
not the stone, not the light,
but the part of me that believed I was inside.
I step through.
Or maybe I break apart.
Or maybe I finally become what was calling me.
Either way
there is no crack anymore
only a sky opening inside my ribs
and I come apart into wings
a thousand small freedoms lifting at once.
They scatter through rooms that no longer exist,
land on clocks and turn them into pollen,
and somewhere a future version of me
wakes up already flying,
forgetting each previous existence,
returning to settle for more life,
resetting all memories
for a fresh start.
I am no longer me
but Self.