born in the furnace where pressure made diamonds, every scar became a map every wound became guidance. they were betting on collapse...
poem
The Mountain
1 min read
born in the furnace where pressure made diamonds, — every scar became a map every wound became guidance.
More from The Forge
View all →Beyond language...
beyond religion... — beyond every name
Usually, the room changes first. Sometimes…
Usually, — the room changes first.
# September 17th, 2024
September 17th wasn't simply another date that I later tried to attach to the sky. — It was the day I experienced what I describe as my **spiritual awakening**.
Continue the journey