u/EndAny6841

If creating a woman’s account brings this many men rushing into the messages, have men died?
Why do so many people become fascinated by a face behind a screen without knowing the human behind it?
Are we searching for a person, or just for a gender?
It’s like a tree standing beside a rose and saying, “I’ll give you my shade because you’re beautiful.”
Would the tree still offer its shade if the rose were just another tree?
Maybe we have become puppets, admiring what shines and imagining it must be something precious.
Maybe we aren’t searching for humans anymore. Maybe we’re searching for what we have imagined them to be.

It’s a shiny day,
It’s a shiny day.
Dead people gathered
On the northern way.
Their whitish skin
Pierced by golden rays,
Which killed their skin
And destroyed their hay.
They all are asking,
No one’s saying.
The kids talk—
“Let’s think and play.”
With whom?
With moving clouds
And rustling leaves,
With blind priests
And visionary thieves,
With opened eyes
And closed beliefs,
With alive humans
Who live on knees.
Humans in a cage,
And animals were released!
They talk about God,
Who died with diseases.
They said He is immortal
And will never die.
Hell lies beneath the earth,
And heaven beyond the sky.
He has everything
And is never pleased.
They said God is everything
That gives us ease.
One person said to them:
“God is alive
Just because you believe.
If you do not believe,
He is nothing to you.
He is not after you,
Nor before you.
The dream of God
Is only to find solace.
You want someone
To whom you can blame.”
Then another woman came
And ended the talk:
“Why do you use ‘He’ for God?
If He is ‘He,’
Does that mean He is full of lust?
Like a man,
Does He carry the same dust?”

It’s a shiny day,
It’s a shiny day.
Dead people gathered
On the northern way.
Their whitish skin
Pierced by golden rays,
Which killed their skin
And destroyed their hay.
They all are asking,
No one’s saying.
The kids talk—
“Let’s think and play.”
With whom?
With moving clouds
And rustling leaves,
With blind priests
And visionary thieves,
With opened eyes
And closed beliefs,
With alive humans
Who live on knees.
Humans in a cage,
And animals were released!
They talk about God,
Who died with diseases.
They said He is immortal
And will never die.
Hell lies beneath the earth,
And heaven beyond the sky.
He has everything
And is never pleased.
They said God is everything
That gives us ease.
One person said to them:
“God is alive
Just because you believe.
If you do not believe,
He is nothing to you.
He is not after you,
Nor before you.
The dream of God
Is only to find solace.
You want someone
To whom you can blame.”
Then another woman came
And ended the talk:
“Why do you use ‘He’ for God?
If He is ‘He,’
Does that mean He is full of lust?
Like a man,
Does He carry the same dust?”

It’s a shiny day,
It’s a shiny day.
Dead people gathered
On the northern way.
Their whitish skin
Pierced by golden rays,
Which killed their skin
And destroyed their hay.
They all are asking,
No one’s saying.
The kids talk—
“Let’s think and play.”
With whom?
With moving clouds
And rustling leaves,
With blind priests
And visionary thieves,
With opened eyes
And closed beliefs,
With alive humans
Who live on knees.
Humans in a cage,
And animals were released!
They talk about God,
Who died with diseases.
They said He is immortal
And will never die.
Hell lies beneath the earth,
And heaven beyond the sky.
He has everything
And is never pleased.
They said God is everything
That gives us ease.
One person said to them:
“God is alive
Just because you believe.
If you do not believe,
He is nothing to you.
He is not after you,
Nor before you.
The dream of God
Is only to find solace.
You want someone
To whom you can blame.”
Then another woman came
And ended the talk:
“Why do you use ‘He’ for God?
If He is ‘He,’
Does that mean He is full of lust?
Like a man,
Does He carry the same dust?”

It’s a shiny day,
It’s a shiny day.
Dead people gathered
On the northern way.
Their whitish skin
Pierced by golden rays,
Which killed their skin
And destroyed their hay.
They all are asking,
No one’s saying.
The kids talk—
“Let’s think and play.”
With whom?
With moving clouds
And rustling leaves,
With blind priests
And visionary thieves,
With opened eyes
And closed beliefs,
With alive humans
Who live on knees.
Humans in a cage,
And animals were released!
They talk about God,
Who died with diseases.
They said He is immortal
And will never die.
Hell lies beneath the earth,
And heaven beyond the sky.
He has everything
And is never pleased.
They said God is everything
That gives us ease.
One person said to them:
“God is alive
Just because you believe.
If you do not believe,
He is nothing to you.
He is not after you,
Nor before you.
The dream of God
Is only to find solace.
You want someone
To whom you can blame.”
Then another woman came
And ended the talk:
“Why do you use ‘He’ for God?
If He is ‘He,’
Does that mean He is full of lust?
Like a man,
Does He carry the same dust?”

It’s a shiny day,
It’s a shiny day.
Dead people gathered
On the northern way.
Their whitish skin
Pierced by golden rays,
Which killed their skin
And destroyed their hay.
They all are asking,
No one’s saying.
The kids talk—
“Let’s think and play.”
With whom?
With moving clouds
And rustling leaves,
With blind priests
And visionary thieves,
With opened eyes
And closed beliefs,
With alive humans
Who live on knees.
Humans in a cage,
And animals were released!
They talk about God,
Who died with diseases.
They said He is immortal
And will never die.
Hell lies beneath the earth,
And heaven beyond the sky.
He has everything
And is never pleased.
They said God is everything
That gives us ease.
One person said to them:
“God is alive
Just because you believe.
If you do not believe,
He is nothing to you.
He is not after you,
Nor before you.
The dream of God
Is only to find solace.
You want someone
To whom you can blame.”
Then another woman came
And ended the talk:
“Why do you use ‘He’ for God?
If He is ‘He,’
Does that mean He is full of lust?
Like a man,
Does He carry the same dust?”

It’s a shiny day,
It’s a shiny day.
Dead people gathered
On the northern way.
Their whitish skin
Pierced by golden rays,
Which killed their skin
And destroyed their hay.
They all are asking,
No one’s saying.
The kids talk—
“Let’s think and play.”
With whom?
With moving clouds
And rustling leaves,
With blind priests
And visionary thieves,
With opened eyes
And closed beliefs,
With alive humans
Who live on knees.
Humans in a cage,
And animals were released!
They talk about God,
Who died with diseases.
They said He is immortal
And will never die.
Hell lies beneath the earth,
And heaven beyond the sky.
He has everything
And is never pleased.
They said God is everything
That gives us ease.
One person said to them:
“God is alive
Just because you believe.
If you do not believe,
He is nothing to you.
He is not after you,
Nor before you.
The dream of God
Is only to find solace.
You want someone
To whom you can blame.”
Then another woman came
And ended the talk:
“Why do you use ‘He’ for God?
If He is ‘He,’
Does that mean He is full of lust?
Like a man,
Does He carry the same dust?”

It’s a shiny day,
It’s a shiny day.
Dead people gathered
On the northern way.
Their whitish skin
Pierced by golden rays,
Which killed their skin
And destroyed their hay.
They all are asking,
No one’s saying.
The kids talk—
“Let’s think and play.”
With whom?
With moving clouds
And rustling leaves,
With blind priests
And visionary thieves,
With opened eyes
And closed beliefs,
With alive humans
Who live on knees.
Humans in a cage,
And animals were released!
They talk about God,
Who died with diseases.
They said He is immortal
And will never die.
Hell lies beneath the earth,
And heaven beyond the sky.
He has everything
And is never pleased.
They said God is everything
That gives us ease.
One person said to them:
“God is alive
Just because you believe.
If you do not believe,
He is nothing to you.
He is not after you,
Nor before you.
The dream of God
Is only to find solace.
You want someone
To whom you can blame.”
Then another woman came
And ended the talk:
“Why do you use ‘He’ for God?
If He is ‘He,’
Does that mean He is full of lust?
Like a man,
Does He carry the same dust?”

It is vital what you have, not what you do not.
Some birds cannot fly, though wings they have got.
Happiness, by itself, finds you; no one can bring it near.
It is a hidden diamond within a copper ring, waiting to appear.
What is good, and what is bad?
For centuries, humanity has struggled to understand.
Humans arrive with a tear and go with a fear.
They just live in fog which looks too clear.
Is not the light of heaven and hell the same?
It is only a matter of where it is placed.
Everything is duality wearing a single face.
Without the darkness of night, we cannot know the moon’s grace.
Justice and law are not entirely a lie.
Yet who is pure enough to punish another till they die?
Is not justice itself an offender,
When it permits one person to become another’s revenger?
Crime is a crime, whether direct or indirect.
Those who pass judgment—who grants them that intellect?
Do those books decide justice, the ones taught in law schools?
Written by fools who researched among fools?
They too may see the world with only one eye.
Can such vision truly be fair?
They believe they are players in the game;
Unfortunately, they are merely spares.
Is a brain without knowledge not a day without the sun?
Is it not like a soldier fighting a war without a gun?

It is vital what you have, not what you do not.
Some birds cannot fly, though wings they have got.
Happiness comes on its own; no one can bring it close.
It’s a hidden throne behind a beautiful rose.
What is good, and what is bad?
For centuries, humanity has struggled to understand.
Humans arrive with a tear and go with a fear.
They just live in fog which looks too clear.
Is not the light of heaven and hell the same?
It is only a matter of where it is placed.
Everything is duality wearing a single face.
Without the darkness of night, we cannot know the moon’s grace.
Justice and law are not entirely a lie.
Yet who is pure enough to punish another till they die?
Is not justice itself an offender,
When it permits one person to become another’s revenger?
Crime is a crime, whether direct or indirect.
Those who pass judgment—who grants them that intellect?
Do those books decide justice, the ones taught in law schools?
Written by fools who researched among fools?
They too may see the world with only one eye.
Can such vision truly be fair?
They believe they are players in the game;
Unfortunately, they are merely spares.
Is a brain without knowledge not a day without the sun?
Is it not like a soldier fighting a war without a gun?

It is vital what you have, not what you do not.
Some birds cannot fly, though wings they have got.
Happiness comes on its own; no one can bring it close.
It’s a hidden throne behind a beautiful rose.
What is good, and what is bad?
For centuries, humanity has struggled to understand.
Humans arrive with a tear and go with a fear.
They just live in fog which looks too clear.
Is not the light of heaven and hell the same?
It is only a matter of where it is placed.
Everything is duality wearing a single face.
Without the darkness of night, we cannot know the moon’s grace.
Justice and law are not entirely a lie.
Yet who is pure enough to punish another till they die?
Is not justice itself an offender,
When it permits one person to become another’s revenger?
Crime is a crime, whether direct or indirect.
Those who pass judgment—who grants them that intellect?
Do those books decide justice, the ones taught in law schools?
Written by fools who researched among fools?
They too may see the world with only one eye.
Can such vision truly be fair?
They believe they are players in the game;
Unfortunately, they are merely spares.
Is a brain without knowledge not a day without the sun?
Is it not like a soldier fighting a war without a gun?

The Duality of Existence
It is vital what you have, not what you do not.
Some birds cannot fly, though wings they have got.
Happiness comes on its own; no one can bring it close.
It’s a hidden throne behind a beautiful rose.
What is good, and what is bad?
For centuries, humanity has struggled to understand.
Humans arrive with a tear and go with a fear.
They just live in fog which looks too clear.
Is not the light of heaven and hell the same?
It is only a matter of where it is placed.
Everything is duality wearing a single face.
Without the darkness of night, we cannot know the moon’s grace.
Justice and law are not entirely a lie.
Yet who is pure enough to punish another till they die?
Is not justice itself an offender,
When it permits one person to become another’s revenger?
Crime is a crime, whether direct or indirect.
Those who pass judgment—who grants them that intellect?
Do those books decide justice, the ones taught in law schools?
Written by fools who researched among fools?
They too may see the world with only one eye.
Can such vision truly be fair?
They believe they are players in the game;
Unfortunately, they are merely spares.
Is a brain without knowledge not a day without the sun?
Is it not like a soldier fighting a war without a gun?

It is vital what you have, not what you do not.
Some birds cannot fly, though wings they have got.
Happiness comes on its own; no one can bring it close.
It’s a hidden throne behind a beautiful rose.
What is good, and what is bad?
For centuries, humanity has struggled to understand.
Humans arrive with a tear and go with a fear.
They just live in fog which looks too clear.
Is not the light of heaven and hell the same?
It is only a matter of where it is placed.
Everything is duality wearing a single face.
Without the darkness of night, we cannot know the moon’s grace.
Justice and law are not entirely a lie.
Yet who is pure enough to punish another till they die?
Is not justice itself an offender,
When it permits one person to become another’s revenger?
Crime is a crime, whether direct or indirect.
Those who pass judgment—who grants them that intellect?
Do those books decide justice, the ones taught in law schools?
Written by fools who researched among fools?
They too may see the world with only one eye.
Can such vision truly be fair?
They believe they are players in the game;
Unfortunately, they are merely spares.
Is a brain without knowledge not a day without the sun?
Is it not like a soldier fighting a war without a gun?

It is vital what you have, not what you do not.
Some birds cannot fly, though wings they have got.
Happiness comes on its own; no one can bring it close.
It’s a hidden throne behind a beautiful rose.
What is good, and what is bad?
For centuries, humanity has struggled to understand.
Humans arrive with a tear and go with a fear.
They just live in fog which looks too clear.
Is not the light of heaven and hell the same?
It is only a matter of where it is placed.
Everything is duality wearing a single face.
Without the darkness of night, we cannot know the moon’s grace.
Justice and law are not entirely a lie.
Yet who is pure enough to punish another till they die?
Is not justice itself an offender,
When it permits one person to become another’s revenger?
Crime is a crime, whether direct or indirect.
Those who pass judgment—who grants them that intellect?
Do those books decide justice, the ones taught in law schools?
Written by fools who researched among fools?
They too may see the world with only one eye.
Can such vision truly be fair?
They believe they are players in the game;
Unfortunately, they are merely spares.
Is a brain without knowledge not a day without the sun?
Is it not like a soldier fighting a war without a gun?

It is vital what you have, not what you do not.
Some birds cannot fly, though wings they have got.
Happiness comes on its own; no one can bring it close.
It’s a hidden throne behind a beautiful rose.
What is good, and what is bad?
For centuries, humanity has struggled to understand.
Humans arrive with a tear and go with a fear.
They just live in fog which looks too clear.
Is not the light of heaven and hell the same?
It is only a matter of where it is placed.
Everything is duality wearing a single face.
Without the darkness of night, we cannot know the moon’s grace.
Justice and law are not entirely a lie.
Yet who is pure enough to punish another till they die?
Is not justice itself an offender,
When it permits one person to become another’s revenger?
Crime is a crime, whether direct or indirect.
Those who pass judgment—who grants them that intellect?
Do those books decide justice, the ones taught in law schools?
Written by fools who researched among fools?
They too may see the world with only one eye.
Can such vision truly be fair?
They believe they are players in the game;
Unfortunately, they are merely spares.
Is a brain without knowledge not a day without the sun?
Is it not like a soldier fighting a war without a gun?

(Im not native so I admitted my mistakes )

It is vital what you have, not what you do not.
Some birds cannot fly, though wings they have got.
Happiness comes on its own; no one can bring it close.
It’s a hidden throne behind a beautiful rose.
What is good, and what is bad?
For centuries, humanity has struggled to understand.
Humans arrive with a tear and go with a fear.
They just live in fog which looks too clear.
Is not the light of heaven and hell the same?
It is only a matter of where it is placed.
Everything is duality wearing a single face.
Without the darkness of night, we cannot know the moon’s grace.
Justice and law are not entirely a lie.
Yet who is pure enough to punish another till they die?
Is not justice itself an offender,
When it permits one person to become another’s revenger?
Crime is a crime, whether direct or indirect.
Those who pass judgment—who grants them that intellect?
Do those books decide justice, the ones taught in law schools?
Written by fools who researched among fools?
They too may see the world with only one eye.
Can such vision truly be fair?
They believe they are players in the game;
Unfortunately, they are merely spares.
Is a brain without knowledge not a day without the sun?
Is it not like a soldier fighting a war without a gun?

(Im not native so I admitted my mistakes )

I’ve been thinking about how humans deal with new inventions.
We create something to solve a problem. It works, people adopt it, and later we discover problems caused by the same solution. Then we create another solution.
Petroleum solved real problems and transformed modern life, but its large-scale use also created environmental concerns. Now electric vehicles and cleaner energy are presented as solutions.
AI makes me think about the same cycle. We are focused on what AI can do for us, but what might we discover about its effects after we become dependent on it?
Maybe we discover an invention in two parts:
First through creation.
Then through consequence.
So, do we really discover an invention when we create it, or only after we have lived with it?

I’ve been thinking about how humans deal with new inventions.
We create something to solve a problem. It works, people adopt it, and later we discover problems caused by the same solution. Then we create another solution.
Petroleum solved real problems and transformed modern life, but its large-scale use also created environmental concerns. Now electric vehicles and cleaner energy are presented as solutions.
AI makes me think about the same cycle. We are focused on what AI can do for us, but what might we discover about its effects after we become dependent on it?
Maybe we discover an invention in two parts:
First through creation.
Then through consequence.
So, do we really discover an invention when we create it, or only after we have lived with it?

I came with spear in my hand hoping to burst all balloons of obstacles standing in the way of my life. I was in the search of something sharp but however every spear I interacted here is rounded tip.
So instead of becoming my friend , the spear became the ballon’s friend and became a new obstacle for me one that I no longer have capacity to carry.

So I think I will wait for a day and then throw it away….

And perhaps that’s why I’ll leave Reddit because the search for a sharp spear has started becoming another obstacle to my writing. 😂

I came with spear in my hand hoping to burst all balloons of obstacles standing in the way of my life. I was in the search of something sharp but however every spear I interacted here is rounded tip.
So instead of becoming my friend , the spear became the ballon’s friend and became a new obstacle for me one that I no longer have capacity to carry.

So I think I will wait for a day and then throw it away….

And perhaps that’s why I’ll leave Reddit because the search for a sharp spear has started becoming another obstacle to my writing. 😂