Sami Blog
前往频道在 Telegram
✍️ Through my words, I build a world of self-awareness and reflection. 🌌 Where the spirit of life flows from within, genuine companions quietly join the journey.
显示更多未指定国家未指定类别
361
订阅者
-124 小时
-77 天
-7730 天
帖子存档
361
🎉 Prize Delivered!
The prize has been successfully handed over to the lucky winner of our recent lottery. 🏆✨
As a token of appreciation for loyalty, all participants of the previous challenge have also received a special NFT gift ; no questions asked! 💎🚀
Check out the previous challenge here
Stay tuned for more surprises and thank you for being part of our community. 🙌
#Sami
@SamiBlog
361
🎶 Best Song Giveaway 🎶
📩 Forward the link of your favorite song from this channel or simply forward the post itself to our Direct Message.
✅ Each person can participate only once.
👥 Invite your friends!
When your friend submits a song, they should also include your @ID as the referrer.
Both you and your friend will get extra entries in the raffle for a higher chance to win! 🎁
🎯 At the end, one lucky winner will be randomly selected from all participants!
📌 Minimum participants required: 10
🔗 Share this post with your friends, groups, and stories to increase your chances!
⏰ Deadline: Until Tomorrow, September 27, 2025 – 00:00 (Tehran Time +3:30)
➡️ Equivalent to September 27, 2025 – 20:30 (UTC)
#Sami
@SamiBlog
361
Tonight the city chews its nails down to sparks.
We trade our names for barcodes and clap for the machine that counts our claps.
Kindness is rented by the minute; mercy comes with a captcha.
Laughter is a disinfectant sprayed over a fever that never breaks.
We call this hope: a window showing a landscape painted on the wall behind it.
The people? Sleepwalkers with calendars. They apologize in advance, invoice included.
Their words arrive polished; their intentions arrive late.
They buy mirrors to outsource conscience, then return them when the truth doesn’t fit.
Every promise has small print carved into someone else’s back.
Time keeps its receipts.
The sky looks away the way a cashier looks past a shoplifter.
Progress is a conveyor belt with prettier paint; we jog in place and call it travel.
We harvest attention and plant despair, then curse the crop.
The heart is a rumor ; monitored and throttled for violating community guidelines.
If there is a judge, it is a broken streetlight: always on, never seeing.
If there is a door, it opens inward and only when nobody knocks.
At the end, the ocean returns our questions unopened, stamped:
Insufficient Humanity.
It feels like the trigger needs to be pulled.
#Sami
@SamiBlog
500