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The world moves like a slow, grinding wheel, indifferent to wreckage, to blood on the pavement, to the things that break and bend and do not quite fit back the same. There’s no poetry in it, no grand metaphor—just a car, a man, and the unfortunate physics of collision. One moment, motion, then a deafening halt, then the body remembering it is fragile. A shoulder out of place, a knee twisted wrong. A delay, a detour, a forced reckoning with the weight of time.

I haven’t been online. Not because I’ve forgotten, not because there’s nothing to say, but because priorities shift when the body demands its due. There are bones to mend, tasks left undone, a viva approaching like a slow-moving beast that doesn’t care for excuses. Another doctorate to submit, deadlines whispering threats. The world doesn’t wait. The work piles up, indifferent.

I owe people words, responses, thoughts—but right now, catching up is the only rhythm I can keep. Social media is a distant hum beneath the more pressing matters of function and obligation. I’ll be back soon. The words will come. But for now, I dig myself out of this delay, limb by limb, day by day.

The body has its own clock, indifferent to impatience. It heals in increments, in the quiet labor of tissue knitting itself back together, in the stiffness that gives way to movement, in the ache that no longer dictates the day. The knee steadies, the shoulder holds, and what was once a slow, careful crawl forward is now something closer to a stride. The worst of it is over. What remains is endurance.

But time lost is never just lost—it accumulates elsewhere, in the work left waiting, in the obligations that didn’t vanish just because I couldn’t meet them. There is no clean return, no simple catching up, only the slow and steady reclaiming of ground. The weight of it is there, but so is the motion. One thing at a time, until everything that was set aside is pulled back into place.

It won’t be long now. The work gets done, the days unfold, and soon enough, I’ll be back.

CSW
Feb 12, 2025
https://metanet-icu.slack.com/archives/C5131HKFX/p1739362272612749?thread_ts=1739362272.612749&cid=C5131HKFX

https://www.group-telegram.com/us/CSW_Slack.com/6794



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The world moves like a slow, grinding wheel, indifferent to wreckage, to blood on the pavement, to the things that break and bend and do not quite fit back the same. There’s no poetry in it, no grand metaphor—just a car, a man, and the unfortunate physics of collision. One moment, motion, then a deafening halt, then the body remembering it is fragile. A shoulder out of place, a knee twisted wrong. A delay, a detour, a forced reckoning with the weight of time.

I haven’t been online. Not because I’ve forgotten, not because there’s nothing to say, but because priorities shift when the body demands its due. There are bones to mend, tasks left undone, a viva approaching like a slow-moving beast that doesn’t care for excuses. Another doctorate to submit, deadlines whispering threats. The world doesn’t wait. The work piles up, indifferent.

I owe people words, responses, thoughts—but right now, catching up is the only rhythm I can keep. Social media is a distant hum beneath the more pressing matters of function and obligation. I’ll be back soon. The words will come. But for now, I dig myself out of this delay, limb by limb, day by day.

The body has its own clock, indifferent to impatience. It heals in increments, in the quiet labor of tissue knitting itself back together, in the stiffness that gives way to movement, in the ache that no longer dictates the day. The knee steadies, the shoulder holds, and what was once a slow, careful crawl forward is now something closer to a stride. The worst of it is over. What remains is endurance.

But time lost is never just lost—it accumulates elsewhere, in the work left waiting, in the obligations that didn’t vanish just because I couldn’t meet them. There is no clean return, no simple catching up, only the slow and steady reclaiming of ground. The weight of it is there, but so is the motion. One thing at a time, until everything that was set aside is pulled back into place.

It won’t be long now. The work gets done, the days unfold, and soon enough, I’ll be back.

CSW
Feb 12, 2025
https://metanet-icu.slack.com/archives/C5131HKFX/p1739362272612749?thread_ts=1739362272.612749&cid=C5131HKFX

https://www.group-telegram.com/us/CSW_Slack.com/6794

BY CSW - Slack Channel


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WhatsApp, a rival messaging platform, introduced some measures to counter disinformation when Covid-19 was first sweeping the world. For tech stocks, “the main thing is yields,” Essaye said. One thing that Telegram now offers to all users is the ability to “disappear” messages or set remote deletion deadlines. That enables users to have much more control over how long people can access what you’re sending them. Given that Russian law enforcement officials are reportedly (via Insider) stopping people in the street and demanding to read their text messages, this could be vital to protect individuals from reprisals. But because group chats and the channel features are not end-to-end encrypted, Galperin said user privacy is potentially under threat. Despite Telegram's origins, its approach to users' security has privacy advocates worried.
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