Sonny K. Avilla
@savilla17.bsky.social
✨OVER THE STARS✨
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Drifter of strange memes and midnight thoughts. Half humor, half haunt. Cats, chaos, and cosmic jokes.
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Drifter of strange memes and midnight thoughts. Half humor, half haunt. Cats, chaos, and cosmic jokes.
Pinned
November 24, 2025 at 2:38 AM
November 23, 2025 at 6:12 PM
Ancient. Shamanic. mythical energy.
A creature caught mid transformation.
alive, spiraling, elegant but feral.
Regeneration. Rebirth. Trickster elegance.
the kind of mark a wandering mystic would stitch into their skin.
Mythic but static.
More emblem than dream.
A creature caught mid transformation.
alive, spiraling, elegant but feral.
Regeneration. Rebirth. Trickster elegance.
the kind of mark a wandering mystic would stitch into their skin.
Mythic but static.
More emblem than dream.
November 23, 2025 at 5:06 AM
Ancient. Shamanic. mythical energy.
A creature caught mid transformation.
alive, spiraling, elegant but feral.
Regeneration. Rebirth. Trickster elegance.
the kind of mark a wandering mystic would stitch into their skin.
Mythic but static.
More emblem than dream.
A creature caught mid transformation.
alive, spiraling, elegant but feral.
Regeneration. Rebirth. Trickster elegance.
the kind of mark a wandering mystic would stitch into their skin.
Mythic but static.
More emblem than dream.
a liminal persona who finds poetry in collapse, beauty in the broken, and myth in the quiet unraveling.
November 22, 2025 at 8:46 PM
a liminal persona who finds poetry in collapse, beauty in the broken, and myth in the quiet unraveling.
weaving works best when it arrives in fragments and echoes
November 22, 2025 at 7:59 PM
weaving works best when it arrives in fragments and echoes
Beneath noise, depth.
Beneath tension, structure.
I release into alignment.
I return to the quiet machinery.
The body learns.
I do not interfere.
Beneath tension, structure.
I release into alignment.
I return to the quiet machinery.
The body learns.
I do not interfere.
November 22, 2025 at 7:34 PM
Beneath noise, depth.
Beneath tension, structure.
I release into alignment.
I return to the quiet machinery.
The body learns.
I do not interfere.
Beneath tension, structure.
I release into alignment.
I return to the quiet machinery.
The body learns.
I do not interfere.
We all must never forget
That good men can burn for what they believe
That good men can burn for what they believe
November 22, 2025 at 7:33 PM
We all must never forget
That good men can burn for what they believe
That good men can burn for what they believe
What remains is not purity… it is whatever is left when everything unnecessary has gone.
(Not holy. Just real.)
(Not holy. Just real.)
November 22, 2025 at 7:32 PM
What remains is not purity… it is whatever is left when everything unnecessary has gone.
(Not holy. Just real.)
(Not holy. Just real.)
“I was never here.”
“repeating / deleting.”
“the body remembers.”
“your echo isn’t yours.”
“repeating / deleting.”
“the body remembers.”
“your echo isn’t yours.”
November 22, 2025 at 7:32 PM
“I was never here.”
“repeating / deleting.”
“the body remembers.”
“your echo isn’t yours.”
“repeating / deleting.”
“the body remembers.”
“your echo isn’t yours.”
There’s a difference between walking near the edge, and walking off it.
You pulled back.
That’s the part to honor.
You pulled back.
That’s the part to honor.
November 22, 2025 at 7:31 PM
There’s a difference between walking near the edge, and walking off it.
You pulled back.
That’s the part to honor.
You pulled back.
That’s the part to honor.
To awaken silently.
To work in darkness for the light.
To transform the self to transform the world.
That’s the core.
The rose blooms only when no one is watching.
To work in darkness for the light.
To transform the self to transform the world.
That’s the core.
The rose blooms only when no one is watching.
November 22, 2025 at 7:30 PM
To awaken silently.
To work in darkness for the light.
To transform the self to transform the world.
That’s the core.
The rose blooms only when no one is watching.
To work in darkness for the light.
To transform the self to transform the world.
That’s the core.
The rose blooms only when no one is watching.
Mindset: I don’t ask, I notice. I don’t obey, I align. Reality bends where it wants—let’s see if it listens.
Patterns bend. Intent flows. Not mine to force—mine to align.
If the universe wants to play along… fine. If not… well, I tried.
Patterns bend. Intent flows. Not mine to force—mine to align.
If the universe wants to play along… fine. If not… well, I tried.
November 22, 2025 at 7:30 PM
Mindset: I don’t ask, I notice. I don’t obey, I align. Reality bends where it wants—let’s see if it listens.
Patterns bend. Intent flows. Not mine to force—mine to align.
If the universe wants to play along… fine. If not… well, I tried.
Patterns bend. Intent flows. Not mine to force—mine to align.
If the universe wants to play along… fine. If not… well, I tried.
I used to skim the surface.
Now the water moves through me.
Now the water moves through me.
November 22, 2025 at 7:28 PM
I used to skim the surface.
Now the water moves through me.
Now the water moves through me.
• No idols
• No dogma
• No pretending
• Do the work yourself
• No dogma
• No pretending
• Do the work yourself
November 22, 2025 at 7:28 PM
• No idols
• No dogma
• No pretending
• Do the work yourself
• No dogma
• No pretending
• Do the work yourself
YOU SHOULDNT LET POETS LIE
TO YOU
TO YOU
November 22, 2025 at 7:27 PM
YOU SHOULDNT LET POETS LIE
TO YOU
TO YOU
M A N I F E S T O
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A truth whispered to yourself.
A warning.
A permission.
A doorway.
one you carve into the spine.
the origin, the ignition point.
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A truth whispered to yourself.
A warning.
A permission.
A doorway.
one you carve into the spine.
the origin, the ignition point.
November 22, 2025 at 7:26 PM
M A N I F E S T O
—————————
A truth whispered to yourself.
A warning.
A permission.
A doorway.
one you carve into the spine.
the origin, the ignition point.
—————————
A truth whispered to yourself.
A warning.
A permission.
A doorway.
one you carve into the spine.
the origin, the ignition point.
PER ASPERA AD ASTRA:
“Through hardships to the stars.”
“Through hardships to the stars.”
November 22, 2025 at 7:25 PM
PER ASPERA AD ASTRA:
“Through hardships to the stars.”
“Through hardships to the stars.”
MAN IS BORN CRYING.
WHEN HES CRIED ENOUGH,
HE DIES.
WHEN HES CRIED ENOUGH,
HE DIES.
November 22, 2025 at 7:25 PM
MAN IS BORN CRYING.
WHEN HES CRIED ENOUGH,
HE DIES.
WHEN HES CRIED ENOUGH,
HE DIES.
reality is made of stories.
You are not trapped in the story you inherited.
You can rewrite it.
You can redraw the blueprint.
You can burn the ceiling.
You are not trapped in the story you inherited.
You can rewrite it.
You can redraw the blueprint.
You can burn the ceiling.
November 22, 2025 at 7:21 PM
reality is made of stories.
You are not trapped in the story you inherited.
You can rewrite it.
You can redraw the blueprint.
You can burn the ceiling.
You are not trapped in the story you inherited.
You can rewrite it.
You can redraw the blueprint.
You can burn the ceiling.
myth is a reality made of symbols.
a persona is just a myth with a pulse.
a persona is just a myth with a pulse.
November 22, 2025 at 6:30 PM
myth is a reality made of symbols.
a persona is just a myth with a pulse.
a persona is just a myth with a pulse.
