We spend years trying to return to who we were, only to realize that person no longer exists
by the time he called it a night, the night had already called him
⏹
can you be not in love with kittens
digitalism organic
walking fields attracting each other
so much on so little
decode
*singing like there is no tomorrow*
one night to be confused
11
so turned out people are only nice to you because they want something
Have you ever woken up with terror carved into your bones? Not from a nightmare. You can move. You're fully awake. Yet every instinct tells you not to. The pressure is overwhelming. It feels as if something immense is standing just beyond what your eyes can see. Not necessarily evil—just so powerful that your mind can't comprehend it. It happened to me more than once. I still don't know what it was. The brain can explain many things. So can spirituality. Maybe one day I'll find an answer. Or maybe some experiences aren't meant to be solved—they're meant to remind us how little we truly understand. Have you ever experienced something like this?
Oh I need some rest. Between nature and her vulgar display of power
There was a time when meditation was the first thing I did after waking up. Not in a studio. Not with music. Not with an app. Just me, deep in a Polish forest, far away from civilization. At first, it brought an incredible sense of clarity. The world felt sharper. Time slowed down. Every sound, every movement of the leaves, every breath seemed more real than reality itself. Then something changed. I started seeing things. Hearing things. I was completely sober. No drugs. No alcohol. Just silence... and a mind that seemed to open far wider than I was prepared for. To this day, I don't know how to explain those experiences. Maybe they were tricks of perception. Maybe my brain was filling the gaps. Maybe something else entirely. What I do know is that they were powerful enough that I never truly returned to meditation. Sometimes I wonder if we spend so much time trying to escape the noise outside... that we forget how loud the silence inside can become
sovereign technologies or gods of the new era?
push the tempo
digitalMAXXING, am I doing it right?
Every human carries a quiet dissatisfaction. Not because life is bad. Because it could be different. That feeling built civilizations... and destroyed them. Swipe to continue We invent tools. We write books. We cross oceans. We paint. We pray. Every action is an attempt to replace the present with a future we imagine to be better. The Austrian economist Ludwig von Mises argued that action begins with uneasiness. If we were perfectly content, we wouldn't move. Progress isn't born from comfort. It's born from the inability to stay still. Maybe this is why happiness is so elusive. The moment we reach one mountain, another appears behind it. The horizon keeps moving. And somehow... we keep walking. Perhaps the goal was never to eliminate that feeling. Maybe it is the engine itself. The force that keeps humanity creating, searching, loving, failing, and trying again. Without it, history would have never begun
Is that *a threat*, my lord?
entangled forever
By the night. You can notice the light because there is darkness
everyday sacrifice, no question asked
Hi guys, I've changed my Instagram nickname. It felt like the right time to build an identity of my own and move beyond the tool I started this journey with. Midjourney will always be part of my process, but it's no longer the whole story. Four years of creating every single day brought me here. So many experiments, so many lessons, amazing people I've met along the way, and collaborations I'm truly grateful for. Thank you, @daaroan and @deflexity, for being part of it. More is coming—art, music, photography, and whatever else helps us slow down, feel something, and stay human. See you soon
diffrent worlds in one place, parralel, alternative, we have them all, why ours
time travel is it possible?
mornings are rough these days, pressure, more pressure
AN AVALANCHE IS MADE OUT OF SNOWFLAKES
Guys, how do you deal with being slaves? I am so tired of doing things I do not want... So this pictures symbolise this feeling. Thanks
I sometimes wonder how much of what we call anger, greed, jealousy, or pride is simply love that never found its way. Maybe the greatest poverty isn't a lack of money, but a lack of being truly seen. We spend our lives trying to fill that absence with success, pleasure, status, distractions—anything that can quiet the ache for a moment. But nothing imitates love for long. Perhaps that's why so many people are at war with the world. They're really just at war with an empty place inside
I wantes to type "f*ck the king" below this pictures, but it didn't allow me. Yeah, free speech indeed
What remains? Someone once wrote, non omnis moriar — I shall not wholly die. A beautiful thought. Maybe also the oldest ego trap. Everything dies. Empires. Languages. Names carved into stone. The people who remember them. The mountains that watched them. One day even the Sun will burn out, and the universe itself will fade into silence. And then... Maybe it all begins again. So perhaps immortality was never about being remembered. Perhaps it's simply about being here, for this brief impossible moment, before becoming part of everything once more. Still, scary as f*ck
I was born in 1993. Poland was the Wild West. Politics stayed corrupt. Wars never really ended, they just changed their names. Money is printed out of thin air. Pleasure became a religion. But sure... Just affirm your next material goal
Oh the city, you never sleep. Feeling thin, substances leaving my body
subjects
still trying to explore
How to figure this out?
Untitled
in the woods and fire
The first step outside is the hardest — you leave the body like a room you've lived in too long. Somewhere between who I was and who I'm watching, there's a silence that has my name. I looked back and saw myself still standing there. Neither of us waved. Out of myself is not escape. It's the only place with a full view. The self is a costume that fits too well. Tonight I hung it by the door. Consciousness leaning out of its own window, curious what it looks like from the street. Every exit from yourself is an entrance into something that was waiting. I went out of myself and found the world had been inside all along. No joke!
Are we all just mostly sad?
Can you hear them scream?
Yellow man returns
eerie summer, dreams, hopes and wars
space opera
goodnight?
Space cats Btw I really like this song
my soul still whispers the old folktales
Looking back... I've run my prompts from 2023 through the new models and my current settings - I am freaking stoked about the results. It also made me think about technology and our progress. For me, the question is, how to develop technology that does not seperate us from nature?
half-life, double up the speed
and what happens at the end?
Some houses are not built. They grow, ring by ring, out of what the forest refuses to forget. You don't find them - they let you arrive. And you always arrive too late to leave. Two cross the bridge and never look down. One stands on the water and never looks up. The arch between them is not stone - it is the question neither dares to ask. They built stairs down to the water, then stopped believing in the water. Now the sea keeps what falls into it, and the birds fly low, reading names off the surface. A city so certain of itself it built a twin in the lake. But the reflection is the honest one. Everything above the waterline is just what the water dreams. The trees hold their breath. The water holds the moon. And the moon holds nothing at all - which is why everything below it keeps trying to be held. The trees hold their breath. The water holds the moon. And the moon holds nothing at all - which is why everything below it keeps trying to be held. Every wall here was raised by a thought you didn't finish. The stairs glow because someone is still climbing them. It might be you. It was always you
I still cannot comprehend all of that is happening, but I guess I have to roll with it