He stands still, rooted in the quiet, his silhouette merging with the fading light. His shoulders, broad like ancient bark, bear the weight of unseen years. His arms hang like weary branches, reaching, waiting, yet unnoticed by the world that walks past. The wind does not stir him, nor does the crowd. He is a tree among men—present, strong, but unseen, his voice lost in the rustle of fleeting moments.
I stand still, rooted in this city. The wind moves past, but I remain— present. I may leave, but a part of me stays.
As I've explored the Masquerade, I looked too close to notice him. Fortunately, your observation made me see the invisible.
i had not noticed this figure until reading this observation. astute
The tree among men reminds us that there’s wisdom in simply being—an unspoken presence holding the tapestry of life together.
Is this a race? Not sure when it started, whose race it is, or what it’s for, but here we go... Where is everybody? Somehow, I feel frozen in place. Deeply rooted in everything around me. Hard to believe sense I’m never present. My mind is always idling on yesterday and worrying about tomorrow. Whew I’m tired... not exhausted, not even thirsty, just tired. My heart’s heavy too but not pounding. This race feels lonely, no one in sight... it’s just me.
Rooted in the present, I reflect on a race no one can run, but me. Survive or succumb. Survivor's mode activated, I persevere.
No one else can run the race but you.
An artwork that seems to produce music from its colors. An artwork that seems to produce words, phrases from the movement it represents. In all of this, I feel the seasons and read the laws of the subtle world that govern the universe.
Like my love for the things above, my love for this art has grown - entropy's effect: more magnitude, more chaos, more Love.
An Artwork that engages the senses and the imagination...a uniquely human experience on the event horizon of the singularity in the year 2025. May we never lose this ability.
Art that sings, moves, and speaks—synesthesia of meaning woven through form. It’s not just what we see, but what we feel beneath it, the rhythm of existence echoing in color and shape. The universe hums; some just listen better.
Art is not what you see, but what you make others see. Degas Art must be an expression of love or it is nothing. Chagall Sam, carrying the torch of the giants that came before him. An immersive masterpiece that will last the test of time. I'm grateful.
Paulson.
Thousands of hours spent shuffling Paulsons.
Damp it
In the dark corners of despair, surprisingly structure and precision appear. Surrounded by chaos, it is muted by the being who strives for more. Entrenched by savagery and surrounded by Neanderthals, a glimmer of hope becomes present through exactness. Purpose becomes the priority. All we have ever known is debauchery and sin. Can my origination be a vessel for change? May the dark come to light, and let me be the catalyst to facilitate this revolution!
Navigating the Masquerade more thoroughly, I've found that vitality emerges in several other regions. I am not alone in my quest
And what of the Mask of light and righteousness, as we allow the Pure wield virtue like a cudgel to cover their own shadow? Might dark corners shroud a deeper source of divinity, out of which the dawn of Creation might emerge? A flip of Mask and Essence?
agree
A grinder in his element.
In the Monument I found you, unexpected, electrifying me with joy and sadness, and immense gratitude for the gift of seeing beauty. Now, I find you again. Another gift, waiting in the light and protective canopy... To share with the Masquerade in deep empathy and compassion: Being vulnerable leads to joy and growth, not pain. Empathy creates connections. I am flawed. But I am here, open, ready to receive. Take my hand, let us rise together above the muck and the clamor, and hold each other up.
Rarely do members of a true family grow up together. We yearn for each other. And through searching, finding, are made whole.
i am flawed but i am cleaning up so well. i am seeing in me now, the things you swore you saw yourself.
Hundreds of Observations and yet not a single one about this book. Discarded and forgotten. I wonder what secrets it holds - what stories it could tell. How long has it sat here in the muck? What does the number 7 signify? It's old and worn, but it looks like it held value to someone or something at one time, a reader cared enough to use a bookmark. This book is shrouded in mystery, and the scholar in me wants to know more.
Others have considered the number seven but none of the theories speak to me. The meaning will remain a mystery for now.
You ask what the “7” signifies, stating “the scholar in me wants to know more” — be real, “the scholar in you” didn’t even try.” More Destruction at: www.supercope.xyz/masquerade/
This book holds hidden wonders, but only a masked person can see them. Take this mask, wear it, read and let the secrets unfold. Knowledge awaits, ready to shine for those who dare to see. 859b830c87c72d528beeb8c060a144e9daecb27465bd43d5a1357085466c9283
There's a seemingly infinite number of secret details like this embedded into the artwork with what feels like unlimited ways to interpret them. This feels purposeful, to enable the interactivity and creativity of our participation.
soon there will be no books left to be forgotten
Seven deadly sins. Could that be what awaits us? Pride Greed Lust Envy Gluttony Wrath Sloth As we navigate this landscape of naked beings, holding masks, wearing masks, slithering over and through eachother in this lush swamp of pre-history, virtuous.
Its the famous Handbook of Frogland Originality Police (HFOP) if im not mistaken.
"The Rules of Chapter 7" With The Masquerade being chapter 6, I believe the book foreshadows the next chapter for Luci and Spratt. My favorite detail is the early placement of the bookmark, possibly signaling much is still to be determined for chapter 7.
They call the light truth, the dark unknown, but I have seen both lie. Light blinds, burning stories into flesh; shadow swallows, erasing what once was. So I walk the seam, neither seen nor lost, a ghost between fire and void. They search for me in brightness, in abyss— but I am the hush before a name is spoken, the breath before dawn, the step never taken, vanishing just before I am found.
I found you <3
Between darkness and dawn, I am the token forged. Minted in silence, breathing secrets unseen. Your vanished paths whisper truths only I reflect. Neither lost nor found. I cradle your mask in quiet witness at the edge of twilight. 255 🔵
Fallen idols grasp, but only broken souls remain, Fixated on the scraps, a morsel to sustain, Crypto's primal conflict, a grasp of desperate hands, Our community's thin thread, snapping where it stands. The gnawing in my gut drowns out their pleading tone, Our promised kinship, swiftly overthrown. This stale bite, clutched tight against my skin, More than just food, it's where my faith caved in. Fighting for survival, the Masquerade is gone, Except here in the depths, where the final game plays on.
The game plays on, observations cease, A chilling quiet, stark and deep, Soon Luci's decision, the final piece.
You...what makes you happy? I wonder...what makes you happy, does it make others happy too? The right thing...what is it? I wonder...if you do the right thing, does it really make everybody happy?
Amidst the complex labyrinth of gilded masks of the masquerade, identities blur, much like on Purim, when costumes conceal, and yet reveal deeper truths. Esther hid her Jewish heritage until the moment of revelation, much as we don disguises to reveal our deepest secrets and facets. Behind every mask lies a story, a choice between secrecy and courage. Just as Purim teaches that destiny unfolds in unexpected ways, the masquerade reminds us that what is concealed often holds the greatest power.
As we enter the month of Adar, we pray for the ultimate revelation. May we merit, that he who remains concealed, be revealed.
What feelings are concealed behind this dispassionate observation, this mask? What stories, what secrecy, what fears are hidden beneath the observation's surface? In Masquerade, you are safe. Release your burdens, reveal what you have feared to share.
Amidst the chaos they create, they perform like a silent symphony. Each note is a burst of pure bliss and life. They are the delicate balance in this overcrowded milieu, guiding chaos into a harmonious movement of joy and sound.
Music-related observations cluster here. Why? Raising heads, swinging play, brilliant light. Signs beckoning. Optimism. A glimpse of the beginning of infinity. Inspires song. What of observers in the depths? Are they singing as well?
Esther hid her identity for her safety while making her way into the palace and queenhood, up until she needed to reveal herself for the sake of many. Even then fear of death made her doubt what God had positioned her for. What you hide behind will never be your redemption....and we hide behind so much these days. Masks of fear and insecurity, facades to cover those masks and more facades for those. The cycle is endless. Will you be ready to shed them when God calls to you? Are you Esther?
We are all on a journey and there is a revelation at each challenge. Can we make the right choice? Can we hold onto faith?
Your observation reminds me of the parable of the talents—our duty to maximize what we’ve been given rather than hide it. “Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose.” – S. Jobs
Masks don't just hide they shape. Esther's veil was a passage, not just concealment. To shed is not to return but to step into the fire of change. Mask is not just fear but a tool. Question isn't "Are you Esther?" but who will you become once unmasked?
Esther reminds me to believe. The divine may not speak words, yet a presence is with us. She believed in this good deed, regardless of any ultimate cost. I wonder if I have already encountered God. I wonder if I did the right thing.
Chvrches.
I should probably look less fondly on the past.
Why Chvrches? A search says surely music related. Which song resonates? Your observation and this cathedral recalls "My Church". I find solace and inspiration in music and this work surely must inspire a few. Can I get a hallelujah? Can I get an Amen?
No church in the wild
Emerge from the Endless Wandering, just because they were taken from you does not mean they wont someday return.
Everything is temporary, but the world is constantly shifting. When the stars align you may be granted a second chance. Do not take this lightly. Seize this opportunity as it will surely be your last.
Loose ground, brittle layers. A step firm, then slipping. Gravity calls. The sun fractures. Rain leaks through. A grin. Hollow unheard. Palms clenched, craving release. A boy’s mask, stretched thin over the abyss. Spinning, unmoored, drunk, drowning. Thick dark, breathless. Clots my throat, blinds my sight. Limbs locked, tremors crushed. The path swallows itself. Speed, an apparition. No claim to stake, no space to carve. At least you tried. As if it mattered.
Sogna, ragazzo, sogna Non cambiare un verso della tua canzone Non lasciare un treno fermo alla stazione Non fermarti tu
A mask lingers at the highest branch - above time’s slow decay, yet still bound to it. Like fruit that never rots, it remains untouched, waiting for a hand that never arrives. Is it preservation, or just another illusion of permanence in the masquerade?
Haven of light, the mask as a shield In sacred hands the child revealed Destined to rise yet hidden from sight Embers of legacy forged in the night Years now whisper through roots woven tight On silent threads guards watch what is right Under their gaze the treasure remains Rooted in flame yet bound by the chain Judgment is cast as the embers ignite Paths now are set before every new knight Emerging as Seers when trial completes Guardians rise and the cycle repeats Share Your Legacy, and I'll reveal...
. C O M
I ain't reading all that. I'm happy for u tho. Or sorry that happened.
...Alternative futures, now unconcealed Children unshackle the chains of the past A new fire kindles from embers surpassed
mystical garden of hidden desire a thousand faces flicker yours etched in moonlight mine in shadow divine entanglement begins regal rose blooms in exiles hush her essence a chant of longing her petals tremble with secrets only love hears I wear this mask as skin a vow to the unseen shed it slip into Infinite breath to breath ember to fire O beloved as stars waltz thru skies unveil I bow reveal your sacred heart bathed in loves glow at last I see love is the soul's mirror as above so below veil lifts
with honey on my lips & seed in my womb I pray as shadows lift our child rises as a blessing to break curses & redeem our people
at night, the moonlight dances on her skin telling tales that only love can spin we sip ambrosia and become immortal from earth to heaven, through love’s portal the morning sun reflects in her eyes a quiet echo of the night’s goodbyes
Your scars tell a story, your past etches the future. Your darkness brings gratitude for your light. One cannot exist without the other. Your duality makes you whole. No other will complete; that is your journey alone.
This mask is fuckin’ heavy. Been wearing it my whole life. Behind the double eyeholes, I’m safe from the mind police. I’ve more respect for drooling idiots than the so-called enlightened beings. What have they done but erect walls, prisons, & data centers. The machinery of misery humming inside a server room of infinite servitude. This madness behind my eyes, barely contained as I ascend, smiling at the bank teller, put the money in the bag! In this smash and grab jungle, you just try and survive.
Who said anything about misery? Not eye. Not eye. Sink, drown, swim. All the same in the unblinking forever.
Misery is a choice. There are forces that will judge you beyond those in front of your eyes.
mask soul-painting, shining bright skin to grain i bore you light never sweat or chafe or ache broken spirit cloaked from sight now the tying sinews break face bare in a chance mistake pain and rage and shame and fright sink beneath this murky lake
Defy the mask’s pull It veils your fragile soul, but the duality is unescapable Narrowing eyeholes, choking the light—thinning it into slivers of lies! Bare your face—feel the breeze Radiant wonder burns as fiercely as the shadows you’ve been tracing
You always see right through my masquerade I know there's nowhere to hide I'm cellophane All of the fabrications will melt away And when the flame burns brighter Evaporate
...well don't it feel good? You got what you paid for.
Unlike most plastic materials, cellophane is made from wood pulp, making it biodegradable and compostable—good for the planet! So don't burn it - recycle!
"Your visions will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes." — Carl Jung What untold truth are you hiding beneath the mask, my navy seal friend?
I've never fit in. I'm most comfortable tucked away in a dark corner here all alone. Although some folks try, I don't feel like anyone will truly understand this part of me. I work hard everyday for my family and friends and at the end of the day I LIVE for a moment of silence all by myself. This is the tug of war on my life. A constant attempt at balance. I am just doing my best.
I must decrease.
ram dass said: we're all just walking each other home have you ever chosen intimacy over being alone? when you are in a daily struggle against entropy and the state of unbalanced equilibrium, is it better to be alone or to move forward by becoming a crowd?
I felt this, I do my best every day so that myself and the ones I love can have a better life because for so long I brought them nothing but pain. Still at the end of the day all I crave is time for myself, time away from all the chaos. Balance is key.
I relate to your reflection. I love being alone or, at least, with my beloved. These are the only moments where I can truly be myself, without worrying about what I say or do.
The best preparation for tomorrow is doing your best today. Keep searching for the light in dark corners of the world.
You translate fluently, in this tug of war, both sides are still you
We are Happy you are here
spoken like a true introvert. this resonates with me deeply.
Would you believe in what you believe in if you were the only one who believed it? I say fuck the others, do what you feel comfortable in, you don't need to follow what "should" bring you happiness.
One day, all was clear. Then my vision blurred. A surgery meant to fix me almost stole my sight. I feared I’d never see my daughter’s face again. But I fought. Another surgery, another chance. I reclaimed my vision, not just with my eyes, but my life. 9 months ago, life tested me again. An emergency C-section. A heartbeat caught between light and loss. I survived. Now, I paint with hands that touched the edge,with eyes that knew darkness. Their fire fuels me. In the masquerade, I stand bare I am light
I don’t paint for approval, but to be light. Hoy, mi hijo dijo ‘Mamá’ por primera vez. La luz siempre vence a la oscuridad.
Newfound appreciation only gained from scenarios once unimaginable. There is light to come, even at the darkest points. Perspective, perspective, perspective. When hope is at its lowest, perspective changes. No matter the perspective, the light comes.
Fire and survival go hand in hand
The light is cast upon you. From the depths, where you confronted the deepest dark, you rose and reclaimed the glow. We are so happy you are here at this masquerade. Let us dance while we still can.
Grail.
remember you must die.
Thanks!
The gem.
it is the skull he seeks
