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paroxiton.bsky.social
Saṃjñā
@paroxiton.bsky.social
40 followers 80 following 31 posts
All images are created by me.
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paroxiton.bsky.social
In the rain
April 18, 2024 at 5:00 PM
paroxiton.bsky.social
March 8, 2024 at 10:09 AM
paroxiton.bsky.social
Take the bull
February 26, 2024 at 7:59 PM
paroxiton.bsky.social
February 21, 2024 at 2:19 PM
paroxiton.bsky.social
When day was almost through
February 19, 2024 at 2:34 PM
paroxiton.bsky.social
Since childhood I have always had the feeling that there are many different worlds and I was born into the wrong one, a world I could not fit into. I have felt this wrongness strongly all my life. There was no place for me in this world.
February 12, 2024 at 9:31 PM
paroxiton.bsky.social
Hero dog
February 12, 2024 at 6:24 PM
paroxiton.bsky.social
If a druid can give me a potion of oblivion ......
February 8, 2024 at 6:06 PM
paroxiton.bsky.social
As young as I look, I am growing older faster than he, seven to one is the ratio they tend to say. Whatever the number, I will pass him one day and take the lead the way I do on our walks in the woods. And if this ever manages to cross his mind, it would be the sweetest shadow I have ever cast on snow or grass. “A Dog, on His Master” by Billy Collins.
February 3, 2024 at 8:28 AM
paroxiton.bsky.social
The Black Feathered Messenger and the Full Moon
January 30, 2024 at 12:33 PM
paroxiton.bsky.social
Like a king, you command your soldiers to burn everything that cannot be taken with you when you leave him.
January 28, 2024 at 5:08 PM
paroxiton.bsky.social
Medusa,on January 26,2024
"Μέδουσα" Melancholy is like a reptile, Licking with its forked tongue Yet coldly silent without speech. Elegantly strange and strangely elegant, Its scales coil around me. Its venomous fangs, my loyal companions, Bite and bite again at my heart. That bitter joy fills my soul Beyond its capacity. What sound awakens lingering regret? What light illuminates slumbering thoughts? Thunderstorms startle me from dreams. A glance in the mirror, And the serpents have become my hair.
January 27, 2024 at 7:43 AM
paroxiton.bsky.social
It's weird cat.
January 25, 2024 at 9:35 AM
paroxiton.bsky.social
I saw a crescent moon,
Wearing an evening gown adorned with stars.

Gazing quietly upon the earth.
For in the sky, she has no companions.

She traverses the shadows of the night
Painting for us with her faint luminescence.
January 24, 2024 at 6:50 AM
paroxiton.bsky.social
Mask
In life's grand play, each soul dons a mask, Carved by time, in the sun or in the dark. Some wear but one, others a layered task, Some clear as day, some leave no mark. Bold lines on some, by years finely grained, Easily known, or hidden deep and vast. In meetings, masked smiles are exchanged, True faces lost, in shadows cast. Even if one mask falls away, Underneath lies another layer. So what we see, day by day, Is but a reflection, a shaded player. Love and hate, too, can masks become, Hiding truths, weakness underneath. In loneliness's shadow, numb, We carve anew, a hidden sheath. Escaping self, creating illusion, In the theater of life, losing direction. Behind the masks, in quiet seclusion, We seek the self, lost in reflection.
January 23, 2024 at 8:17 AM
paroxiton.bsky.social
The king of rainy land.
Spleen Je suis comme le roi d'un pays pluvieux, Riche, mais impuissant, jeune et pourtant très vieux, Qui, de ses précepteurs méprisant les courbettes, S'ennuie avec ses chiens comme avec d'autres bêtes. Rien ne peut l'égayer, ni gibier, ni faucon, Ni son peuple mourant en face du balcon. Du bouffon favori la grotesque ballade Ne distrait plus le front de ce cruel malade; Son lit fleurdelisé se transforme en tombeau, Et les dames d'atour, pour qui tout prince est beau, Ne savent plus trouver d'impudique toilette Pour tirer un souris de ce jeune squelette. Le savant qui lui fait de l'or n'a jamais pu De son être extirper l'élément corrompu, Et dans ces bains de sang qui des Romains nous viennent, Et dont sur leurs vieux jours les puissants se souviennent, II n'a su réchauffer ce cadavre hébété Où coule au lieu de sang l'eau verte du Léthé — Charles Baudelaire
January 22, 2024 at 5:39 AM
paroxiton.bsky.social
I fantasized about a friend for myself.
January 20, 2024 at 8:27 PM
paroxiton.bsky.social
Maybe someday……
January 19, 2024 at 5:00 PM
paroxiton.bsky.social
Bear,Bear,what do you see?
January 19, 2024 at 5:19 AM
paroxiton.bsky.social
I wanted to raise my bow and shoot at the sky, but I had compassion for them, pitying them for having lost their way back in the middle of their journey.
January 19, 2024 at 2:39 AM