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₿²
thespiritualmachine@nostrplebs.com
npub1lqz2...3ak9
And o'er him Myriads of topaz-lights and jacinth-work Brightening the skirts of a long cloud And sparkled keen with frost against the hilt Bourne of pure light…
datacarrier=1 datacarriersize=83 datacarriercount=1 Yeah, that's the three lines of math that separates my life as a man from my life as an unfeeling ghost.
Don’t you love it how mail delivery is like “yeah we can bring you that package, but we’ll do it faster for more money.”